


Samwell-Florianópolis Express

by emimix3



Series: The Thing With The Bikes [1]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Bicycles, Blogging, Canon Universe, Established Relationship, Friendship, Introspection, M/M, North America, Personal Growth, Post-Canon, Rare Pairings, Recreational Drug Use, Road Trips, Social Media, South America, Texting, World Travel, trans tango
Language: Français
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:54:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 24,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23544211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emimix3/pseuds/emimix3
Summary: It all began as a joke."Let's go to Brazil with our bikes, because the plane tickets are too expensive."Who in their right mind would cycle for thousands of miles, after all?But good thing for them, if Samwell taught them one thing, it's that it's okay to justdoinstead of dream.
Relationships: Chris "Chowder" Chow & Derek "Nursey" Nurse & William "Dex" Poindexter, Denice "Foxtrot" Ford & Tony "Tango" Tangredi & Connor "Whiskey" Whisk, William "Dex" Poindexter & Connor "Whiskey" Whisk, William "Dex" Poindexter/Connor "Whiskey" Whisk
Series: The Thing With The Bikes [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1704640
Comments: 10
Kudos: 44
Collections: Going Out With A Big Bang 2020, omg stream! please Fics





	1. LEG 1: Samwell-New London

**Author's Note:**

> Hi ! This is my entry for the Going Out with a Big Bang event ! Hope you'll enjoy it !  
> The artist is [Nanna](https://immahockeysticktoyou.tumblr.com/) (the art & a playlist can be found [HERE](https://immahockeysticktoyou.tumblr.com/post/615102907510128640/samwell-florian%C3%B3polis-express-ao3-art-by-me))  
> A lot, lot of thank you's to bigspicysenpai & Luminous_Bluebell for beta-ing this piece
> 
> It's a bit ironical to post this in those times of lockdowns all over the world, but I hope you'll enjoy this fic just as much.  
> It is set right after 4.25. It has obviously been written before the last chapters came out, so if some things deviate from canon that's why. Also, some thing I predicted ended up being canon, so it's not that bad !

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To answer to some questions beforehand... If you're athletic (which the boys are), you can bike around 100 km or even 120 (60-75 miles) a day with little issues.  
> In the notes before each chapter, I'll link to a map of the part of the trip the chapter is about - I'll link to the full map at the end of the fic !  
>  **[MAP OF THE CHAPTER](https://66.media.tumblr.com/38332d46c62a0e5d29c03c47b12140a3/6f1f8a910e2e361e-ae/s1280x1920/21a482f04cd3ef8ef106cc4296d32cbeba8c33b2.jpg)**

“All’s good?”

“Bikes, good, helmets, on, backpacks, way too heavy. All is good,” Dex confirmed.

“Y’all be careful, okay?”

Bitty’s graduation ended not fifteen minutes ago – and now, everyone was gathered in front of the Haus to see Whiskey and Dex off. There was one last round of hugs and “Good luck”, and while Whiskey was talking with Tango and Ford, promising not to die before they joined them in Rio, Bitty came to Dex for yet another hug.

“Bitty, you checked if we were good three times already.”

“I’m really anxious for you both, okay? It’s going to be a long, long trip.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll be fine.”

“If you’re not you tell me right away, okay? We’ll send you money. And if you don’t keep us posted, I’ll assume you’re deep in shit, and we’ll send you money.”

“Bitty. You and Jack gave us enough money already.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You asked us to respect the limit of one hundred bucks per person…”

“And yet an anonymous donor gave two thousand dollars to the GoFundMe. I _really wonder_ who this ‘anonymous donor’ could be,” Dex deadpanned.

“Wow, there’s must be some really passionate bike fans out there. That was very generous of this anonymous stranger.”

“ _Cap_. Thank Jack again. And we’ll see you tonight anyway, right? Now, just go enjoy your graduation day and let Whiskey and I bike.”

Dex broke the hug, and Whiskey took it as the signal to go. He himself saluted one last time Ford and Tango, and hopped on his bike – and soon enough, he and Dex were off, pedalling leisurely South under the encouragements of their friends and teammates.

* * *

_Day 1 – Samwell-Providence – 35 miles_

Weather: Sunny & hot

Today’s the day – the start of the trip. Connor and I are stressed, but it’s a good stress. We’re going to be biking for the next three months and, two miles in, we’re tired.

We will get used to it soon! Honestly, the first few days will probably be difficult – hockey practice is nothing compared to this. We’re not used to such intensive effort – but then it’ll be a breeze, I hope.

We left Samwell this morning, and all our friends were there to send us off.

The trip in itself was uneventful. We only biked 35 miles, and we went across some beautiful State Parks. All the pics are at the end of the post. Honestly, it’s beautiful. It’s the little parts of New England that you’d never see if you’re only traveling by car. The weather was good, we left around noon, and we quickly arrived at our first stop: Providence. We have friends living here (Bitty and Jack Zimmermann, we won’t to keep the suspense, you saw them in the 1st picture) and they hosted us for the night. It was Bitty’s graduation from Samwell this morning, so we literally had seen them a few hours ago, but still, Bitty hugged us as if he hadn’t seen us in six months and he fed us so much I’m not sure we will be able to hit the road tomorrow morning. He also snuck cookies in our bags and thinks we haven’t noticed.

We’re leaving early tomorrow morning to reach New London by the afternoon. Good night!

_Dex_

[Pictures: 1st of Whiskey and Dex next to their bikes in front of the Haus, surrounded by all of Samwell Men’s Hockey Team and alumni grinning at the camera. A few of the road. A lot of the Parks.]

* * *

“Still far?” Dex shouted, loud enough so that Whiskey, biking in front of him, would hear.

“Ten miles!”

Dex had no idea if ten miles was still far, to be honest.

* * *

Connor had no qualms about abandoning William to deal with both bikes while he was taking the bags upstairs, to their hotel room. He wasn’t that _tired_ , even if the road between Providence and New London took them longer than expected, but boy, did he dream about resting his feet.

It was only the first few days of biking, and it already hurt a lot. What will it look like by the end of the trip, Connor wondered, as he was stripping down to his boxers and turning on the water of the bathtub. By the time William had joined him in the room, Connor was sitting on the edge of the tub, both feet in the hot water and waiting for things, to, you know, stop hurting so much.

William silently got in his underwear too before sitting next to him, sighing in delight when his feet touched the hot water.

“Fuuuuck…”

“You don’t say,” Connor agreed.

“How are we going to survive three months?”

“We’re going to build up tolerance and ugly feet, it’ll get easier with the miles.”

“I hope so, because I’m already thinking about cutting off my feet and gluing my shoes to the stumps.”

“Wow, sexy,” Connor snickered.

“Thank you, I do my best,” William chuckled, as he began to nuzzle Connor’s face with his to make him laugh.

* * *

**Mama, Connor**

> How are you

>> Fine, mama

> Where are you

>> New London! We just got on the boat, it should leave the port in a few minutes  
>> We should be in New York at around noon

> You’re taking a boat???

>> Yeah, the coast on the way to NYC would be hell to bike through  
>> Can’t wait to be in the countryside

> Ok  
> Where do you sleep

>> First night, at friends’. yesterday, in a cheap hotel  
>> One of our teammates lives in NYC so we’re staying with him for two nights

> Ok


	2. STOPOVER 1: New York City

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our boys arrive in New York for a first stop...

_Day 3 – New London-New York City – No biking_

Weather: Warm and sunny

We’re taking ferries to New York City today. We didn’t want to have to bike in the bay area, there’s way too much traffic, so that would have been long, hellish and dangerous. A friend is hosting us a few days there, because neither William nor I have ever been – needless to say, the start of this trip is really comfy, we’re not biking much and we‘re staying with friends (and last night, in a good hotel near the port)

This update is short, written on the ferry, because we’re not sure we’ll be able to update tonight. So, have some pictures we haven’t posted yet, + some of the view from the boat, and of William editing the first video vlog.

\- _Connor_

[Pictures: one of them is, indeed, of Dex, sitting on the floor of the ferry, working on a beat-up laptop and looking like a deer caught in headlights by the camera]

* * *

The ferry wasn’t a great place to work on computers, but there was Wi-Fi and time to kill, so, it was the best moment for them to update the blog and to edit the vlog. Even if they could get seasickness at any moment.

“Hey Dex, what do ya think about the blog post?”

“I’m working…”

“Dex…” Whiskey fake-whined, throwing his Snickers bar wrapper at Dex’ head. “Pay attention to me.”

“I’m paying attention to video-you right now. He’s far less annoying.”

“Dex, I’ll always prefer real-you over video-you, so how can you betray me like that?”

“Are you possessed by Tango or something?”

Whiskey wasn’t _possessed by Tango_ , but he was bored as hell. It was the second ferry today, and for a bike trip they hadn’t biked much yet. Plus, he was trying to not look at his phone, because he didn’t want to see his messages, or rather, the lack of them. He had sent his agent an e-mail this morning.

“I’m going to walk around,” he finally said, getting up.

“Okay. I should be finished with what I want to do by the time we arrive.”

“Mmh,” Whiskey just mumbled.

Dex raised his head at that, to see that his friend was making a sad face.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, pushing away his computer.

“Something. I don’t really want to talk about it right now.”

“Okay, mh- when you want to talk I’m here, okay?” Dex tried, not too sure.

“Yeah, of course. Later.”

And with that, Whiskey left the lounge, leaving a questioning Dex behind.

When he came back, he still didn’t want to talk, but at least he was smiling.

* * *

“Heeeeeeeeey!”

Whiskey and Dex, who were trying to get their bikes and bags out of the ferry without any commotion, turned around to see that Nursey was already here. He was obviously already deep into summer, with his sunglasses, shorts and Hawaiian shirt. 

“Weren’t you supposed to wait for us at your place?” Dex asked, as both he and Whiskey were hugging their friend hello.

“I was. And then I realised that I _couldn’t_ let you bike through New York City without any kind of guidance. You’d die. So I looked for my trusty steed hidden somewhere in the garage, and I came here.”

“So what, instead of two cyclists killed by New Yorkers driving, there would be three?” Dex asked.

“Ye of little faith. I can bring you home without a scratch. _I got here_ without a scratch.”

Whiskey took a second look at his teammate, standing there with a grin on his face. A second look at his legs, especially.

“Derek, your knee is still bleeding.”

“It was just a small mishap in the subway on my part. It doesn’t count.”

“The subway. You didn't even _bike_ here.”

* * *

They stopped in Nursey’s brownstone just long enough for the guys to drop their bikes and their bags, and Nursey then dragged them all around the city. He had a _lot_ of stories to tell.

That’s the school he went to. Here, he saw a show that was terrible. It was at the terrace of _this_ café that he filed an online application to become a wedding officiant during a brunch with friends, while he was totally hungover. Here, he fell, there, he ran into a wall, and at this place exactly, he broke his _ear_ once.

New York City was beautiful, but huge, and filled to the brim with people. Nursey insisted on taking them to all the hipster places he loved and Dex was half certain that, by the end of the day, they hadn’t even _seen_ the big landmarks such as the Statue of Liberty from far away . They finished the day at almost midnight, at the top of the Rockefeller Center.

The skyline was out of this world, and there was almost no one to appreciate it with them.

“So?” Nursey asked. “You like New York City?”

“It’s… Big,” Dex replied.

“Yeah, that’s kinda the biggest city in the world, yada yada.”

“No, really,” Dex insisted, his eyes on the endless building in front of him, that looked like bright little stars in the black, black sky. “It’s way too big. I don’t even know where to start.”

“I feel like we saw more people today than we’ll see in the rest of our trip,” Whiskey agreed.

“It’s so big, and yet, it’s such a little part of the world.”

* * *

Dex was sitting in front of his laptop, not sure of what to write.

They had just spent a day and a half in New York City, not biking, so there wasn’t really any update to tell the whole world about. Maybe try to talk about the itinerary they planned for the following day, going down to Atlanta? But that wouldn’t be really interesting, probably.

So instead, he opened Instagram, to look at the pictures they took of the city in hope that one of them would strike him with inspiration for his blog post.

He could make some small talk about the food. They had spent a day and a half here, and they sure ate well. Maybe about the view, but they didn’t really have the time to take in everything they saw – it was thing after thing after thing and that left them more tired than anything. Then– when he swiped to a picture from the day before, he saw, among the comments, a question. And another. And another…

Oh. He knew what to write.

* * *

_Day 4 – Stopover in New York_

Hello everyone,

We just had the first stop of the trip and we took the time to discover New York with our friend. So, nothing new, so what about answering a few questions you asked in the comments here or on Instagram?

**Why this itinerary?**

Starting point is Samwell because we’re in college here. The end is Florianopolis, to visit Connor’s grandma. We don’t have that much time, only summer break (not even full, we’re due back to Samwell early because of team training) so we won’t go through Central America (we take a plane in Atlanta) and we’ll do a big chunk of Brazil by train/bus.

**Why bikes?**

It all began because Connor told me he’d like to visit his grandma but didn’t have the money to fly there – so, I told him I’d go with him by bike, it wouldn’t cost anything if there’s no tickets to buy. In reality, it’s waaaay more expensive but the challenge was appealing.

**How did you fund this trip?**

Personal funds & Gofundme. We found shitty, underpaid jobs we only needed a laptop for to earn as much as we could, and our friends pushed us to make a gofundme to fund the rest. We’re lucky to have friends who have supported emotionally and/or financially through this, or we would never have left. Thank again, all of you.

**Will you stop in X/Y/Z?**

Who knows? Not me, I can’t read a map, I just follow (jk I was a boy scout I know how to read maps)

**Where do you sleep/how do you eat/where do you poop?**

For now we’ve slept in a hotel and at friends’; after that we have a tent with us, but we’d rather try to find cheap motels/hostels on the way. We eat what we find ready-to-eat and we poop in the middle of the road, like everyone else.

**What is the most difficult part?**

We just began, but as of now […]

* * *

* * *

_It all began with ‘what if’s and pies in the sky._

One late night, while Whiskey and Dex had been lying in Dex’ room in the basement, on the bed under the fairy lights, Whiskey had told Dex:

“I really miss my vovó.”

Whiskey’s grandma had gone to live back to Brazil five years ago, after his grandpa died. Whiskey hadn’t seen her since, nothing more than phone calls here and there.

And, he explained to Dex, he couldn’t see her really, not now. He didn’t have the money to pay the plane trip.

“That’s sad,” Dex had told him. “I’d bike there with you, so it’d be free.”

“Haha – yep, that would save the plane fare for sure.”

“I always have great ideas, you know.”

They weren’t even together yet back then.

It became an inside joke between the two – talking about their upcoming bike trip, the useless things they’d put in their bags, the stops they’d make on the way.

But they both _knew_ it would never happen, right? 

As Nursey hugged them both goodbye at the terminus of the bus line in Staten Island, where they’d resume biking South, Dex couldn’t help but be thankful to have friends who kicked their asses into actually doing this trip.


	3. LEG 2: New York City-Atlanta

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **[MAP OF THE CHAPTER](https://66.media.tumblr.com/94211ac98f80f530150e2aa7bdaac924/6f1f8a910e2e361e-c4/s1280x1920/00e5d3e5c4f95c08b6a7badf8166fbe99019ca98.jpg) **

[Youtube video excerpt.

Dex is filming, probably with a GoPro strapped on his bike, Whiskey is a few feet in front of him – they’re biking on a rather busy road – cars don’t seem to care and pass them without shifting an inch. After a truck passes Whiskey close enough for him to see his life flashing before him, it’s written, in huge, red and blinking : **BOSWASH CORRIDOR SURVIVORS**

Cut. They’re on way less busy area, it’s sunny, and Whiskey is the one filming. They’re probably in a park, or something like that, it’s hard to say – but Dex is under a tree, napping and hugging his empty sandwich wrapper.

Cut. They’re setting up their tent next to a lake. Whiskey very visibly never has pitched a tent, ever, and has no idea of what he’s doing. Dex was a boy scout and it shows. 

[…] ]

* * *

They were staying in a motel tonight, where the sheets almost looked clean. Connor wouldn’t risk using a UV light on them to check, though. They were quite tired – tomorrow, they’ll reach Greensboro where they’ll stop for a day. It wasn’t a planned stop, but they were exhausted and honestly, if they had found a nicer place to rest for a day they wouldn’t push so far in their state.

Dex had put their (big, two-person, so comfy) sleeping bag over the sheets, and he was now sitting on it, trying to put aloe lotion everywhere because, well. He’d burnt, and he’d been eaten by mosquitos, and he hadn’t bothered shaving yet and his peach fuzz had produced three ingrown hairs that hurt like hell. Oh, and breakfast didn’t agree with him this morning.

“I won’t ask you how you feel,” Whiskey said.

“Don’t you dare indeed.”

“Need help with that?”

Dex didn’t reply, but gave Connor the bottle of lotion. His back hadn’t burnt, but you clearly could see the shape of his T-shirt’s collar on his neck. Connor generously applied the aloe there.

“You’re gonna tan once the burn is gone.”

“I doubt that,” William corrected him.

“Yes, yes. You tan after burning.”

“You really underestimate how _white_ I am, then. I’m just gonna turn back white, then red again, then white, then red, with a fuck ton of freckles everywhere.”

“Good.”

“How is that good?” Dex asked, turning just enough to see Connor from the corner of his eye.

“Well, freckles. Freckles are hot,” Connor shrugged.

Dex turned around completely.

“Since when.”

“They always have been.”

“They’re so not. In some languages you call them _flies’ shits_ it’s not for nothing!”

“But that’s cute!” Whiskey insisted. “I see a guy with freckles and I’m like; ‘Yeep! I’m in!’”

“You’re weird.”

“’Am not,” Whiskey teased, touching one of Dex’ freckles. “ _Peca. Peca, peca-”_

“Stop this!” Dex laughed, trying to hide his face from Whiskey’s merciless poking.

Whiskey was about to jump Dex to tickle him into oblivion when a huge crash interrupted them.

They turned around to see that one of the bags that they had put on a chair had been pushed on the ground, and they were just quick enough to see who or what did it.

“Is that a mouse?” William gasped.

“No, that was _at least_ a rat.”

“ _Fuck_ , it was big enough to be fuckin’ Mickey himself!”

“Let’s hide in the sleeping bag until morning! Careful, if you let any body part out, he’s gonna come and eat it!”

“Let’s get rid of it!”

“What, so he can come back with all his family to munch us? Let’s ignore him, he’ll leave when he’ll realise we don’t have food!”

“I don’t want to die here, in a shitty motel in Virginia or North Carolina or whatever-”

[Youtube video excerpt. Whiskey is sitting on the bed of the motel, half-asleep and the sleeping bag around him. Dex is holding the camera, and is filming the room. He zooms on the bag on the chair, that had been pushed by the rodent. Its contents have been spilled during the night – there’s dirty clothes everywhere.

“Are you kidding me? The rat went through _everything_ last night trying to find food!”

Dex, still holding the camera, bends down to pick a T-shirt when he yelps and jumps – holding his finger.

“FUCK!”

“Is he still here. Is the rat still here,” Whiskey just asks.

On the camera, you can see the rodent who just spent the night sleeping in the T-shirt. It’s angry.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Dex yelps. “It’s a _possum.”_

“Are you kidding? It’s a real, full-sized possum? There a real, goddamn _possum_ in our motel room?”

“What’s next? A _puma_? Thousand roaches? _A human squatter_?”

“Get rid of it!” Whiskey, who was still in bed and not about to move, demands.

“Are you for real?”

Dex puts the camera on the bed and tries to grab the possum – just to be hissed at and scratched, but when Dex finally manages to grab the little guy, it was to discover a surprise in his shirt on the floor.

“He pissed in my shirt.”

“Are you kidding.”

“What’s fun about _piss_ in my _shirt_? Oh fuck that reeks-”

“It could have been worse,” Whiskey tries, attempting to stay positive.

“How,” Dex, who was still holding a fighty marsupial in his arms at not even seven AM, asks.

“I don’t know, it could have been a pregnant possum that gave birth in our clothes. Or it could have died.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better? Should I rate this shithole motel 2 stars because, ‘we found a whole-ass angry possum in our room and it pissed in our clothes, but at least it didn’t have babies in there’?”

“Fuck, we _paid_ to sleep here…”]

* * *

[Instagram picture. The sun is setting, and you can guess a shape, probably Dex, sitting far away, looking at the sky. They are in a valley, and there’s mountains in the background.]

 **@connor.whisksksks** Breathtaking **.** @will-travel. #appalachians #SC #biking #roadtrip

* * *

**William, Connor**

> I wan to fuck

They were in a hostel and the dorm they were in was packed, so tough shit, Whiskey thought as he read the text. Dex was on the bunk right below him, and as far as Whiskey knew he was supposed to be _reading_.

But yeah, he was kinda horny as hell too. They hadn’t had the chance to hook up since they left.

>> Yeah me too 

> We shoul never have started hoking up its dangerous I wasnt thirsty like this befor 😞  
> Why are you hot

>> No need to talk about sex we won’t be able to have sex tonight

> I know. I m going back to read about rosa luxemburg to think abut smtg else  
> But know I really want to have the sex w you

>> I really want to have the sex with you too.

They _knew_ they wanted each other to be The One. Whiskey had told Dex that Chad broke up with him because Whiskey didn’t want to have sex, but Whiskey saw sex as precious and didn’t want to do it with just anyone.

‘ _I don’t want to wait until marriage, you know? But I don’t want to do it with a guy I couldn’t imagine getting married with, you see? It’s not that I’m not attracted to guys and I don’t want to have sex but like- I don’t_ want _to, you see? Ah, it makes no sense’_ he had tried to explain to Dex even before they got together.

Dex’ tiny sex life hadn’t been great, too fast for his tastes, so he had agreed that it wasn’t a bad way to see things. But yeah, the first months of their relationship, both wanted to take it slow, and things had stayed quite chaste. But their relationship had since evolved, and they had Done The Do. And since, they hadn’t stopped.

Sue him, but Dex was totally his type. Tall and lanky and freckles and strong enough to carry him around (but still, light enough to _be_ carried around) and _freckles_ and abs and he had become great at sex (Whiskey didn’t think he half-bad himself) and freckles. And Whiskey was in love and if he had it his way, he’d only have Dex for the rest of his days.

Shit, now Whiskey was all hot and bothered, there were eight strangers in the room, some hanging in their bed, some at the other side of the room, drinking beer and talking, and he couldn’t think about anything that wasn’t Dex naked but he was all alone in his misery because Dex was reading about _Rosa Luxemburg_. At least, Whiskey was on the third bed of a three-level bunk bed, so he had a modicum of privacy. 

Well.

>> [Picture: a rushed dick pic]  
>> thinking of you 😘

Whiskey could hear Dex gasp.

> YOURE THE DEVIL

* * *

**Re: Re: How are you?**

From: Penny ANDERSON

To: William POINDEXTER

Great to know everything is going well for now. Are you sure you want to continue? Out of the US it will be way more difficult. I know you say your friend speaks Spanish but I’am worried.

Damian and Thomas are working on the boat with your uncles, this year is a good year for lobster. Lisa found a job at the market, and the twins are helping grandpa build his deck. Looks like you’re the only one one not working this summer! 

Good luck and stay safe. Love,

Mom

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

> **Re: How are you?**
> 
> From: William POINDEXTER
> 
> To: Penny ANDERSON
> 
> Hi mom,
> 
> Everything is going great. I’m sending you some pictures we haven’t put on the blog. How is everyone doing? 
> 
> We’re going to reach Atlanta in two days and we’ll fly to Bogota from there. I’m going to be useless for a while, haha. Until Guyana, but Connor is fluent in Spanish so everything should be fine. Can’t wait to try the food.
> 
> Hope all is good and I miss you,
> 
> William

* * *

“Yes, I see Coach… Well I’m still in the US right now, so if I have to call it’s now- Yes our plane is first thing in the morning tomorrow. Mmh, just give me a second-”

Dex took his phone away from his ear and covered the speaker, and he turned towards Whiskey to ask him:

“Coach Murray tells me there’s a journalist who’d like to interview me on Skype, like, right now could work. It’d be thirty minutes tops, do you mind…?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll give you some space. Text me when you’re done.”

“Thank you. Sorry. Love you.” Dex said, before uncovering the speaker. “All is good, I can do it now. Will you send me her info, or will you give her mine…?”

Whiskey took a book and his phone and left the room, starting to stroll around the hotel.

It was a bland, nondescript hotel just like you would find next to any airport, but Whiskey had noticed on the elevator’s buttons there was a lounge and a bar on one of the top floors so, here he goes.

The bar was closed, and the lounge, almost empty. Whiskey chose the sofa the furthest away from the few people here, right next to the window. He could see the whole airport from here. It was quite ugly. Huge, grey, concrete. /p>

Dex had been elected Captain this year, during the gala. Not unanimously, but still, it meant that the team trusted him and considered that he was fit for the job. Samwell had just won the Frozen Four, led by Bitty, so now all eyes were turned towards Dex. Needless to say there was some pressure on his shoulders.

Dex had confided in him (and the Coaches) that the interviews intimidated him. The Coaches had been understanding, but had also told him it was best if he at least gave one or two to make people happy. Dex had agreed, if they vetted the journalists and questions for him. “Keep it to the sport, please”, he had said.

Dex parents’ didn’t know about him being gay. Dex _would like_ to be able to be out as a captain, to prove, just like Jack and Bitty before, that you can be queer and do sports. But Dex was still dependent on the small amount of money his parents sent him every month to pay rent – even if, at last, now that he was captain, the tuition of his last year would be covered by scholarships. He’d prefer not to have to take out another loan. And he was quite certain that his family would have no qualms about cutting him off if he came out.

But who was Whiskey to talk, really? He wasn’t out either. His parents would cut him off also. That’s not even considering the fact that his goal, after graduating, was the NHL. Would anyone ever want to sign a _rookie_ that is bound to bring more trouble than average? He was no Jack Zimmermann. He wasn’t part of the legend of the NHL before he even signed his contract.

At the end of the day, the NHL was the biggest thing still keeping him in the closet. Whiskey wasn’t sure he wanted to keep contact with his family after graduation. He barely talked to them. They barely talked to him. He knew he was a disappointment already, without the whole “gay thing”.

Life was complicated. Shit, Whiskey couldn’t wait to be on the plane for Bogotá next morning.

* * *

[Video excerpt. They’re in the airport, checking the bikes. They’re in big bike bags, and the image turns black&white and a sad, desperate music begins to play as the staff members take them away from Whiskey and Dex. It’s written, overlayed, in magenta Comic Sans: ITS OLNY A GOODBI 😂😂🤣😭 ]


	4. LEG 3: Bogotá-Puerto Carreño

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  **  
> [MAP OF THE CHAPTER](https://66.media.tumblr.com/a275dcef5e578074d0c1f51fe97564c7/6f1f8a910e2e361e-7a/s1280x1920/ceaa2878f7973258497211964319a4ac6b3d2ff1.jpg)  
>  **  
> 
> 
> sorry for the hand-made lines, but the 'Cycling' option couldn't be chose here.

[Video excerpt. Whiskey is filming an unamused Dex, still in the airport, and who just got his bike back and got it out of the bag…

Just to discover the front wheel is folded in two. Like, it’s a right angle.

“So, Dex,” Whiskey asks (you can hear him snickering), “care to explain?”

“They broke my bike. They broke my bike and now they’re trying to tell me that no, it was just like that when I gave it to them in Atlanta, it’s not them who broke it. I filmed when we put the bikes in the bags and we gave them to the staff! I literally have video proof it’s their fault! They don’t want to hear anything!”

Cut. Whiskey is now on camera, Dex is filming from farther away. The shot is short, just enough to understand he tries to negotiate in Spanish something with a higher-up.

Cut. They’re in public transport with their bikes, as Dex can’t bike for now. He says to the camera:

“So we planned to leave right away but now we have to go to Bogotá to find a bike shop and fix this. I guess I’ll need a whole new wheel. We’ll probably spend the night there and leave in the morning. The company accepted to pay for the repairs, in the end…”

“That’s the fucking least they could do. Fuckin’ hell.”] 

* * *

They spent the night in Bogotá, in the end. They found a shop that could take the bike to fix the wheel (plus, would do a maintenance check on both bikes, which isn’t a bad idea before the mountain roads they’ll have to take), and it would be ready to go in the morning. The price was honest, and they agreed to bill the maintenance checks under the wheel-fixing so that it would be covered by the flight company, so. Dex and Whiskey left the bikes and decided to enjoy the city.

Bogotá was in the middle of the mountains, so to say that they weren’t ready for the cold was an understatement. Okay, it wasn’t _that_ cold, but they just flew there from _Atlanta_ and were wearing _cycling shorts_ – needless to say, the first stop, before even finding a place to eat or a hostel to sleep in, was to buy each a pair of long cycling pants, or else they would _die_.

After that, they went to the nearest hostel to drop their bags and left to visit the city.

They only had one afternoon, so it wasn’t enough to see a quarter of a third of what the city had to offer, but by the time they went back to the hostel in the evening, they had stars in their eyes and arepa in their stomachs.

* * *

[Instagram pictures: a very colourful small street of Bogotá. It’s sunny and there aren’t a lot of people in the streets. One of Dex at a market stand. One of Whiskey, standing in a fountain.]  
  
**@will-travel** Bogota is wonderful & incredibly beautiful. Sad we’re only here for a few hours; but having my bike broken by those fuckin cretin assholes of the airline has some perks, in the end.

@larduan Wow beautiful pictures  
@jlz01 Stunning. Enjoy your time there. -Jack

[Instagram picture: it’s night. Dex is at a stand of street food, eating something. He looks delighted, but red in the face. And neck. And ears.]

**@connor.whisksksks** It’s the beginning of the end – food is now too spicy for non-local white boi and I turned into an unofficial translator

@nursheeeey Rest in piss not-local white boi  
@chowchowder You will be remembered for a few minutes not-local white boi  
@tangotangredi !!!!! dex youre gonna die??? what is it???? cant wait to see you both in rio !!!!   
@omgcheckplease Looks tasty!!

* * *

They were tired, but there was a bar at the hostel, and obviously no one would care that Whiskey isn’t 21 yet. The hostel was crowded anyway, including the dorm they were staying in – seven people were sharing with them, and this group had decided to drink in the room tonight before going out. So, to the bar Dex and Whiskey went, hoping the room would be free by the time they got back… and that the group wouldn’t cause a ruckus when they decided to come back in the middle of the night.

Dex and Whiskey socialised a bit with a group sitting at a table (a small group of six friends travelling from Lithuania, or Latvia, to be honest Whiskey had drank one too many beers to remember) who seemed to be quite interested in their bike trip.

It was chill. Whiskey felt his shoulders relax a little when one of the girls of the group kissed another of the girls and called her something that sounded like a pet name and no one blinked at that.

After an hour or so, someone from another table came up to theirs to ask if anyone was up for a beer pong tournament – most of them got up, save for Whiskey (who hated beer pong) and of the girls that were together (Danielle, something like that).

But before Dex left to play, Whiskey grabbed his hand and pulled him close to kiss him good luck.

He did good, because they were both grinning like kids when Dex left.

“Oh! So you’re together! I didn’t realise!” Danielle (who was very drunk) said.

“Ah, yeah. We’re not into PDA I guess. Pet names even less,” Whiskey laughed.

“My, my. Crossing the continent with your sweetheart – and you don’t want to kill him? God, I would. So much.”

“Nah. We’re teammates. We’re used to travelling and all that, I guess? It makes us stronger if anything.”

“That’s cool. You’re teammates then? What sport? That’s how you got together?”

“Hockey. And, you know actually – he charmed me with his guitar skills.”

“No way.”

“Yes way.”

* * *

_Whiskey had begun hanging out a lot with Dex lately; ever since Dex had his room in the basement._ The basement had been Whiskey’s favourite place to hang out in peace; no roommates, no bright lights, a functional couch, baked goods nearby. Dex had frowned the first few times he saw him read or nap on the couch there, just like he himself had frowned when he saw Dex had built a room in a corner, but they quickly accepted each other’s silent presence.

Dex had even invited him in his room once the temperature outside had dropped, because there was a heater here. They had become solid, silent friends, until they became solid, talking friends. Around the time Whiskey got dumped by Chad, actually. Dex had been the first one to know, even before Tango and Ford, because he needed his insight on how to break the bad news to his best friends. And Dex had been the first one calling him out regarding his “girlfriend”, and how he needed to dump the poor girl, sooner rather than later. Slowly, between two late night discussions (that often turned into sleepovers, because Whiskey really didn’t want to go back to his dorm with his roommate he didn’t like), well, Whiskey fell in love.

They weren’t subtle, either of them, and one day, a few days after Whiskey had decided he’d confess soon, Dex had invited him to his room, had taken his guitar and had cleared his throat, visibly stressed.

“You’re going to sing for me?” Whiskey asked.

“I don’t know. You tell me,” Dex had just said, before he coughed a last time and began to sing.

Whiskey had never heard the song before – he learnt after that it was _Desperate Measures_ , and indeed, with lyrics like “ _For a first effort this feels kinda last ditch_ ” that was what it sounded like. But he attentively listened to Dex sing, (and boy, he wasn’t half-bad!) up until the end, when Dex stopped to look at him, expectantly.

“ _Kiss me, just once, for luck_?” Whiskey just quoted with a grin.

“You can make it twice just to be sure,” Dex had replied with a sheepish smile.

And they hadn’t stopped ever since.

* * *

During the story, Whiskey had pulled out his phone to open Youtube and search for [a video](https://youtu.be/jTiIAW7qmGU?t=5) of the song with the lyrics, to show Danielle.

“Aww… That’s so cute.”

“Really, you’re telling everyone about that?”

Whiskey turned around to see Dex, who had just walked up to their table and who sat right next to him. Dex who seemed really embarrassed about the whole thing - even if it was hard to see if he was blushing with the lowlights and the fact that his face was, currently, one big sunburn.

“You lost already?”

“I’m only good at beer pong when I play with Chowder.”

“And, what. Let me live, Poindexter. We planned to confess at the same time. It’s a good story, people eat it up!”

“ _I_ didn’t plan shit, besides silently pining in my corner for months,” Dex shrugged. “But I got motivated into asking you out when I overheard a conversation…”

* * *

_The kegster was raging in the living-room, the basement (where Wicks, Ollie and some of the guys had made a real-life haunted labyrinth), and every part of the Haus that wasn’t closed with three layers of yellow tape. Or even the parts that were closed. Dex had tried to flee to his bedroom around one AM, but the labyrinth was blocking it ._

So yeah, it was late, Dex was tired, and exiled from his room, and a bit drunk, and his quiet place in the basement was now a crime scene where one of Ford’s friends was playing a corpse attacking people, and he hadn’t seen anyone all night. Nursey was “occupied” in his room, Chowder had been busy dancing all night long with Farmer, and Tango and Whiskey had disappeared really early after the first kegstands. Tango, who had somehow scored a hat trick the day before, did say he wanted to forget his name tonight, so he was going to be trouble. At least Whiskey was on patrol.

So that’s all alone that Dex made his way under the tape barricading the kitchen, hoping to find a pie or two cooling away from the grabby little hands of the partygoers, as well as some water and some peace.

He did find the water, but no pie nor peace. He could still hear the bass of the music pulsating, even when he closed the door, but hey. That’ll do. He poured himself a big glass of tap water, and opened the window at the same time. The porch seemed to be calm. Maybe he’ll go there after.

Dex took some time to drink from his glass, scrolling on his Facebook feed, when a laugh drew his attention towards the outside.

It was, without a doubt, Tango’s drunk-ass laugh, which was more snorts than anything.

“Shhh -sit down, Tang.”

“I am Drunk, Whi.”

Through the window, Dex saw Whiskey manoeuvre Tango on the stairs of the porch, before sitting down right next to him, their backs towards Dex.

“Here, water,” he said, giving Tango the plastic bottle he had in hand.

“I won’t drink no water tonight, I am not _Weak_.”

“Wanna hear a secret? There is water in vodka. So it’s like a deconstructed hipster cocktail.”

That seemed to be enough, because Tango downed the whole bottle in less than twenty seconds.

“Thanks, I was thirsty actually.”

“Considering how much you peed on the Lax Bros’ siding, it’s a miracle you haven’t dehydrated yet.”

“Fuuuck the Lax Bros,” Tango groaned.

“Fran and Ricky are pretty okay guys…”

“If I had a penis, I could have aimed fo’ the windows more easily…” the drunk boy said, totally ignoring his friend.

“Don’t worry, they’ll get the sentiment, dirty windows or not.”

“Thanks for helping me defile their house, bro.”

“Yeah. Don’t worry.”

They didn’t say anything for a while. Tango was focused on the grass, and Connor on the stars, and Dex on the way the light was reflecting on Connor’s profile when his head was turned towards the sky, looking at the North.

“Tony, how drunk are you?” Connor asked.

“Who is -oh. It’s me.”

“I’m telling you something, you promise you will have forgotten it by morning?”

“I can have it forgotten in -wow, five minutes if I need to.”

“I like someone.”

“Oh.”

_Oh._ Dex thought, his hands curling around his water.

“Good, doog, bro-bro, you tell me everything. Who?”

“I ain’t telling you more, I don’t want you to remember it tomorrow.”

“I swear I won’t.”

“Still.”

“Still, tell me about him?”

“Well.” Connor turned back to the sky, and Dex could see his fingers were tapping the porch on rhythm with the music inside. “He’s not _great_ , but he’s fairly okay. That’ll do in the long term, haha.”

“Shadupp. You’re in _like,_ Whisss, you believe he’s the greatest.”

“Ok, maybe, but don’t tell him, it won’t do good for his ego. So, he always makes terrible jokes but he thinks they’re good, and always says the most hilarious things when he doesn’t want to make people laugh. And he’s serious, and focused, really focused, I’ve never seen anyone focused like that before. He knows what he wants, and how to do it, so he just does. And he makes mistakes, a lot, but he’s almost always willing to learn from it. And he’s hot but you know, not in a stunning kind of way? More like, in a beauty of the ordinary kind of way. And a bit in a sexy way too. And I spend so much time with him, and I always try to spend even more time, because it’s so easy to be around him. He knows when I need alone time, and I know when he needs some, and he always know how to surprise me, and I love planning surprises for him, because it always makes him blush and laugh and when he blushes and laughs he looks like a fire truck and it’s cute. And he works so hard. I wish I was so dedicated. And I am _way too drunk_ ,” -he had buried his face in his knees to hide by the time he finished.

_Oh. Oh. Oh._

_It’s me._

“You’re in deep, deep like.”

“Yeah. I like him, and I think he likes me. I’m gonna tell him, by the end of the week.”

“How? How do you manage? How can you say ‘I like someone, I’m just gonna tell them by Sunday’? Why can’t you spend months of ‘will we, won’t we’ like us mere mortals?”

“Becaaause. You lose so much time with ‘will we will we not’. If you _will_ , you lose months of making out. If you _will not,_ you lose months of hopes and dreams. Stop with ‘will we, won’t we’, and just do.”

“Oh. Okay. Okay You’re right. I’m gonna do it.”

“What?”

Tango had gotten up, his tub juice cup in hand -that he downed in one go.

“I’m gonna tell Sarah I like her.”

“No- Wait, Tango, you’re _wasted-”_

Whiskey scrambled up and went after Tango inside, and Dex put his glass down.

Wow.

Well.

He went back to the party, and he was grinning like an idiot, a plan already forming in his head.

* * *

“Are you kidding me Dex. Your romantic confession wasn’t a leap of faith, you perfectly knew I was gone for you already?”

“Oh yeah, totally. No way in hell I’d have confessed if I felt there was too much risk doing so, who do you think I am? Someone brave?

“I think I need to break up with my girlfriend,” Danielle concluded. “She and I will never reach the level of perfectionness you have. We met at a bar when I puked on her.”

Whiskey laughed at that.

“Aw, that’s romantic too, don’t worry…”

“If you want romantic, do you know how our friend Chowder met his girlfriend? They-”

* * *

It was late, and the next place with a hotel was probably hours away. They didn’t stop in the last village, thinking they still had it in them to bike some more today and that they would reach the next village, but they were surprised by how rough the slope was and now it was dark and they were in the mountains (even if they stayed as low as they could), not sure of when they’ll get to civilization once again.

“I give up”, Whiskey said, when they stopped next to the road in a more or less flat area.

Dex stopped right next to him and threw his bike next to Whiskey’s, who had already abandoned his with no qualms.

The moon was big enough to let them see more or less and, let’s be real, it was warm as fuck. Probably because they were in tropical mountains, but more likely because they were sweating like pigs.

“Maybe we can put the tent here,” Dex proposed, scouting the area with his eyes. It was a small, grassy slope, that leaded up to the loop of the road they were on.

“Too lazy,” Whiskey said, and he had already laid on the grass and had closed his eyes. “Am just gonna die here.”

Dex didn’t want to take the time to put up the tent, either. So he just took the big sleeping bag they shared from his bike bag, and layed next to Whiskey. Whiskey was nice enough to roll over just long enough for Dex to lay the sleeping bag on the grass, so they could be more comfortable.

It was eerie.

There was wind, just a bit, and stars, so many of them. Besides that, nothing. No one.

Just the night.

A car passed.

Nothing else moved.

Dex had never felt as much as peace.

“Do you think what we’re doing makes sense?” Whiskey whispered, after a while.

“Crossing the continent by bike to not pay for airfare? No, not at all.”

“Yes, but no. I mean- Travelling. Going to places, seeing things, but not staying anywhere. Spending the summer before our most important college year doing that.”

“What’s wrong, Connor?” Dex asked softly, turning towards his boyfriend.

“It’s just… Next year you’re the captain, and next year, I really need to get the attention from the scouts of the teams I want. You’re going to be a senior, you’ll graduate, and I’ll need to work so, so, so much to get an NHL contract. And here we are. Lying in the grass, lost in Colombian mountains.”

“Yep. Here we are.”

“Dex, I’m terrified. Do- Do you know that I was invited to prospect camps, this summer?”

No. Dex did not know. Whiskey had told him he hadn’t been, and that he was disappointed.

“Did you refuse to go because of the trip? You know, you-”

“No, I… I refused because they weren’t good teams. After. Urgh; after Bitty caught me with my ex, I took my courage in both hands and I talked with Jack, one time when he came over. We talked some more after that, but well. I talked to him a lot, about being out, or not being out, and in the NHL, and how he could do it. He told me a lot of things, told me a lot about the teams that had been good or bad or just acted good in public since he came out. I decided that, out or not, I wanted to be on a good team, you know? One that would support me and my partner. But the two teams that invited me to prospect camps… One was a straight-up bad one, the other was a not great one. So I refused.”

“Whiskey…”

“It felt good, you know. The other day, in Bogotá, when we walked hand in hand and when, in the hostel, we kissed in front of the group and we got to talk about our relationship with strangers, and we weren’t scared to be outed, because how could this group of young adults from Europe hurt us? I would like to be able to do that, all the time. I would like to not have to overthink everything I’m writing on the blog because scouts or our parents will be reading it. I would like to take you on dates at home that are not just in the Haus. But I can’t, because I want to go to the NHL. And also, because our parents are pieces of shit, who would cut financial aid, but that’s another problem.”

Whiskey sighed, and gathered his thoughts for a while.

“It’s just. It’s my dream, I know. But I’m terrified. What if no good team wants me. What if a team I thought would be great signs me and once they learn about you, they flip out. But I’m just an above-average rather good forward from a college hockey team. I’m no Jack Zimmermann. Who would want someone like me on their team so much they’ll agree to deal with mountains of bullshit? I’m just one lost dust speck in the swarm of hockey players. I don’t matter much.”

Dex didn’t say anything, for a while; just took Whiskey’s hand in his, and he looked at the stars.

“You know… Whiskey, you’re good at hockey. Never doubt that. And, even besides it all… Connor, you’re not worth less than anyone. No one is. We, everyone here, on this Earth, are just lost dust specks in the galaxy. We don’t matter much, but neither do those teams, those cities, those assholes. It’s okay if things don’t go according to plan, it’s okay if they do. Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out.”

* * *

_Day 30 – Cravo Norte-Nueva Antioqua – 61 miles_

Weather: RAIN RAIN RAIN

It’s raining so fucking much. Wet season is supposed to be march-may and October-november, and it’s mid-June and it’s raining like hell today.

It’s the first day with such intense rain since we left, and after we accepted the fact that we would be soaked, we started to go faster. On the twenty last miles, a guy had pity on us and stopped his pick-up truck on the side of the road and we hopped in the bed with our bikes until Nueva Antioqua – he even dropped us in front of an hotel.

William’s phone wouldn’t turn on, and when he tried to take off the battery, there was water everywhere, so there’s that I guess. We’re going to go to sleep as soon as we find something to eat (we only had a can of beans for lunch today). No need to clean any clothes, the rain did it for us.

Venezuela is right on the other side of the river, but we’re only crossing the border in about two days, in Puerto Carreño.

_-Connor_.

[One picture. You can’t see anything because of the droplets of water on the lens.]

**SMH losers**

_Whiskey_  
>> [Picture: Whiskey in underwear in their inn room, wringing out his clothes and making puddles on the floor.]  
>> My bag wasnt water-proof enough soall the clothes in side are soaked (Dex)

_Chowder_  
> oh god  
> what are you going to do

_Whiskey_  
>> uh we re hoping it ll be dry in the morning  
>> at least enough stuff to wear  
>> otherwise we’re staying another night here, instead of havign our day off at the border. (Dex)  
>> oh and the inn keeper gave me some rice and my phone is spending the night inthere too, because its soaked (Dex)

_Ford_  
> boys  
> how are you not dead yet

_Whiskey_  
>> oh its only been one month, two more to go, dw we still have time to die (dex)

[Youtube video excerpt: Whiskey has the GoPro on his bike, and is filming Dex, who is biking in front of Whiskey. It’s raining so hard you can barely see anything and can’t hear shit.

Cut. A car stopped in front of them, and the driver makes them a sign to jump in the bed of the pick-up. They do, and the car leaves. 

Cut. The car stops in front of an inn, and they get off and thank the driver for the help. It’s still raining, so they hurry inside with the bikes. Their shoes go “Squish Squish” when they walk.

Cut. From the inn room’s window, Dex is filming the sky. It’s bright blue. It’s not raining anymore. Not a drop, not a cloud.

“ARE YOU FUC-”

Cut. […]]

* * *

**Elea, Connor**

> I can’t believe I still need to be after your ass to call mama

>> I can’t believe you haven’t realised that I’m thousands of miles away, biking in mountains abroad, with some spotty-ass reception

> Uh, she’s after MY ass because she’s angry YOU never call  
> you only have one mama so have some respect 🤷♀️

>> yeah, and she has three kids so I guess it means the respect from her is divided in three 🤷♂️

**Papa, William**

> How are you

>> Great! We re in Colombia right now, very soon we ll be reaching venezuela! I though my phone was dead from the heavy rain we had yesterday, but after a day drying it work again. Kinda. I m sending you some picture tonight when on a computer

> ok.

* * *

An older couple hosted them for the night, when the husband saw them turn around in the village, looking for the inn Google Maps promised them (Google Maps lied, the inn had been closed for two years now.) The wife fed them enough for three days for dinner, really. Dex never wanted to leave and probably wouldn’t be able to, because he just couldn’t _move_. They still made it to the room the couple prepared for them, a small room with a tiny bathroom with a sink and toilets adjacent.

“Dex, it’s your turn to wash our clothes,” Whiskey said the second they were alone, stripping down before looking for clean boxers and his night T-shirt in his bag.

Dex groaned, but got up from the small bed he had let himself fall onto and stripped too to wash everything in the sink. Whiskey, the monster, stole his spot as soon as he was up.

“We’re almost out of soap,” Dex claimed from the bathroom.

“Tragic.”

“And what the hell did you do to your poor socks for them to smell so bad?”

By the time Dex was back in the bedroom, it was to see that Whiskey was now sprawled on the bed, his earphones in and his eyes closed. Dex could faintly hear the music Whiskey was listening to – something calm, quiet. He sat next to his boyfriend and bent over to kiss him, softly.

Gosh, Dex was so in love and he didn’t know what to do with all those feelings.

“Hi,” Whiskey said, opening his eyes.

“I love you.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Hey.”

“What am I supposed to say?” Whiskey laughed, rolling his eyes. “’ _Big same, bro’_?”

“Yeah, that’s swell, bro.”

There was something, Dex thought, as he caressed Whiskey’s cheek, something that was so special that he knew he’ll never feel it towards anyone else again in his life.

Something soft, something rough, something hard and something easy, so easy.

“Marry me?” Whiskey asked.

“Mmhm,” Dex replied, because really, it’s not like there was even the need to ask.

* * *

**SMH pony lovers**

_Dex  
_>> [Picture: Whiskey and Dex on a ferry]  
>> We re crossing the river to go to Venezuela!!!!

_Hops_  
> WOW GREAT

_Tango_  
> is it really a bike trip if most of the miles are not done by bike

_Bitty_  
> Great!!

_Dex_  
>> Also we re engaged

_Louis_  
> WOW GREAT

_Nursey_  
> haha what

_Ford_  
> im sorry you’re what

_Bitty_  
> is that a joke

_Chowder_  
> YOU ARE WHAT

_Dex_  
>> [Audio file; you can hear the boat and Whiskey saying “What are they saying? I sure hope it’s only congratulations because otherwise I’m wooping their asses”]

_Ford_  
> It’s just. It’s fast.

_Dex_  
>> Well you know, catholics, all that.  
>> We need to start ASAP to have our 15 required kids

_Bitty_  
> I mean, OF COURSE COGRATULATIONS and we are so happy for you – but boy, we’ll need some context here

_Dex_  
>> You see when a boy and a boy love each other very much …


	5. LEG 4: Puerto Carreño-Macapá

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  ****  
>  [MAP OF THE CHAPTER](https://66.media.tumblr.com/06e0f593bfdec4aa030e667dc2c36fb7/6f1f8a910e2e361e-9b/s1280x1920/480d7f9e8801fdad127b47132811167c95f4aac2.jpg)

[Youtube video excerpt.

It’s sunny, and Dex is holding the camera: they’re in small mountains, and they are stopped in the middle of the road because a herd of sheep is crossing it.

There’s a _lot of sheep_. Whiskey points one who trips over nothing right in front of him, and he says: “Look, it’s Nursey.”

Cut. They’re at the top of the small mountain. Whiskey is filming the scenery around them. On one side, the valley. On the other, far away, way bigger mountains. It’s calm.]

* * *

“Mi casa es mas grande, es tu casa.”

“What?”

Whiskey took his eyes off his book to look at his fiancé, a bit confused.

“I’m learning Spanish.”

“What. Why.”

“It’s been two weeks I’m in Latin America and I still can’t say anything without needing you as a translator. So I’m learning some Spanish. I have a three-days streak on Duolingo. So, _mi casa es mas grande es tu casa._ ”

“Mi casa es más grande _que_ tu casa. And your accent is cute.”

“Uh.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay Dex! Gotta start somewhere. But please, stick to English for now.”

“Pfff. I can survive in Spanish. The Duolingo owl is proud of me.”

As he said that, Whiskey put his book back in his bag and got up, with his bike, from under the tree they stopped at.

“Fin del descando, volvamos a la carretera.”

“What.”

“Haha,” Whiskey laughed, already on the bike and ready to go.

“Wait! Whis’, _what?”_ Dex shouted, jumping on his bike.

* * *

**WTF**

_Tango_  
> [Picture: an old building half-destroyed, lost in the middle of nowhere.]  
> Thinking about you **☹**

_Ford_  
> Aww  
> There must be so many ghosts in there

_Tango_  
> Yeah it’s near my aunt’s house we should try to visit it one night  
> Would make a great video

_Whiskey  
_>> We’re still filming ghost-hunting? No one cares about ghost-hunting

_Tango_  
> Excuuuuuuuse-ME I LOVE ghost hunting  
> that alone is enough for us to still be filming ghost hunting!!!

_Whiskey_  
>> haha  
>> I promise that if we find ghosts on our bike trip I’ll film them for you

_Tango_  
>

_Ford_  
> Whiskey, MVP, you never disappoint  
> Except when you refuse to help me tidy up the storage room

* * *

“Uh,” Dex had let out, eyes on the meal that the family who gracefully hosted them had served him. “Qué es?” he hesitantly asked, playing with the rice with the tip of his fork.

“Chigüire,” the wife replied with a smile.

Dex turned towards Whiskey, hopeful.

“Capybara,” Whiskey replied, already eating.

“Very good,” the daughter added.

Dex just looked back at his plate, too shocked to say one word.

* * *

“Will,” Connor asked, this night, when they were sitting on the fold-up couch of the living-room before going to sleep, “How is that I haven’t noticed until today you were vegetarian?”

“What? How did you not notice I didn’t eat meat? I mean, even back home – when you guys had steakhouse nights I always stayed with Bitty and we got Indian delivered or something.”

Whiskey dropped on the bed, his arms behind his head.

“Honestly, I thought you just didn’t want to leave him alone or something. Also thought you had a crush on him for a while.”

“Uh, maybe I should just break up with you and go out with him. He’s clearly more observant about me than you are,” Dex snickered.

“But - you ate fish the other day. I remember clearly; there was only that to eat.”

“I mean, I ate some meat for some meals since the start of the trip, when there’s no other options and all, but capybara? I just couldn’t. And after that they offered me some chicken instead? Do you know where chickens come from Whiskey?”

“An egg?”

Dex crossed his legs and looked at Whiskey, his face grave.

“Their yard. I saw chickens when we arrived. I can’t. I can’t eat a chicken that I know I mean, like – when I arrived here, I saw her sisters. Her mother. I can’t _eat_ her, you know.”

“Sorry, not really, I really love chicken tenders too much to relate.”

“That’s fair,” Dex agreed.

He dropped on the bed to lie right next to Whiskey, who had his eyes on him.

“Sorry I didn’t notice. Since when are you vegetarian? Is it recent?”

“Since high school.”

“Really? When you started working on a _fishing boat_?”

“Actually it’s working on the boat that made me vegetarian. Like, I was fishing all those lobsters and like, my first day, there was one that was so cute and I kept her in a small bucket right next to me all day long, I called her Dandelion. And then, we went back to the port, and. I realised we were going to sell all those lobsters so they’d be _boiled alive_ and _eaten_.”

“Oh, boy.”

“I took the bucket with Dandelion and I ran back home. Didn’t want to go back on the boat, but my mom made me understand I didn’t have much of a choice if I wanted to have money for new hockey gear, so… I mean, I live in a small town. My two jobs options are my uncles’ fishboat or the _fish counter_ of the local supermarket with my stepdad, where I would have to, you know, _gut and behead_ dead fishes all day long. At least on the boat, we handle live animals. So I kept Dandelion and I still work with my uncles. Even if everyone in my family makes fun of me and my pet lobster and of the fact that I haven’t touched meat since this day.”

“Dex. You’ve got a pet lobster.”

“Don’t you _dare_ tell Nursey. I wouldn’t hesitate to boil _you_ alive.”

Whiskey just laughed.

“ _Dex_ , you’ve got a _pet lobster!_ Who is taking care of her all year?”

“My little sister. She’s into fishkeeping, so honestly taking care of Dandelion is easy practice for her.”

“Aw, that’s cute. You need to show me pictures. Maybe you could bring her to the Haus next year?”

“Ah, I doubt it. Her tank is _huge_ ,” Dex shrugged, looking through his phone to find a picture – a selfie of him on the beach hugging a lobster clearly on a leash. “Look…”

* * *

“I don’t know what to read…”

They were in the lobby of a small hotel, still in Venezuela. They would be here for a day or two, because Whiskey had pushed too much and his ankle was hurting. So now, he was sprawled on the couch, his feet propped on the table, and he looked like a zombie.

“You’ve got e-books on your phone.”

“I’m so tired of them. You brought books too, no? Can you lend me one? What are you reading?”

Dex was on the armchair right next to him, and he had to check the title of the book he was reading.

“One of Poulaille’s book? It’s proletarian literature.”

“Prole- Dude, you need to _stop_ hanging out with Tango.”

“But-”

“Listen, Tango has two passions, ghost-hunting and communism, and I don’t know where he found them but he needs to stop to contaminate people with them.”

“Well, he _did_ contaminate you with ghost-hunting. Let him contaminate me with communism. Or you’d rather I go back to my Republican ways?”

“So you really were Republican?” Whiskey asked. “It was not one of Nurse’s exaggerations?”

“Listen. It was 18-year-old me, before 2016 – and before this,” Dex countered, holding out his book.

“Still. I don’t wanna read about Proudhon or Luxemburg. Find me a book, please. I’m dying of boredom. My ankle hurts.”

Dex sighed, but he gave up. He wasn’t really focused on his book anyway.

They were in a small town, but Dex had noticed a shop selling newspapers while they were looking for the hotel the night before. It wasn’t far away, so he made his way here, a bit hesitant.

“Hola?” he tried, as he entered in the shop.

An older man was behind the counter, talking to a customer, quite old also. The shopkeeper began to talk to Dex in rapid-fire Spanish, to which Dex could only nod.

“Uhm. Uh- quiero. El libro? Dos libro?”

Both men laughed at his attempt. But they didn’t let Dex go empty handed, so he must have been understood at least a bit.

(Whiskey was only half amused when got his things to read: three different celebrity gossip magazines.)

* * *

_Day 44 – ???-San Martín de Turumbán-??? – 20 miles_

Weather: hot hot hot

We’ve arrived in San Martín early in the afternoon, and we’re still here as of right now. But there’s no roads in West Guyana. Because of, you know, THE TROPICAL FOREST HERE.

We had found a guy who has a boat that could bring us to Bartica. But now that I see what his boat looks like, I’m not certain of the legality and the security of the operation. But the only other solution would be to turn around back to Guyana City and find a better boat or a plane there.

But well, the shitty boat only costs us 50 bucks and we don’t have another 5 days to spare so 🤷 If we die we die

We’re leaving in two hours. If you haven’t any news in the next three days, we’re either drowned in the Cuyuni or the guy stole our kidneys

- _Connor_

[Pictures of the day: a lot of the forest from the road they drove on, some of the small town they’re in, one of Whiskey showing off the mosquito bites on Dex’s freckled leg. It’s maybe the last image of them they’ll ever share.]

* * *

“I need a shower.”

“Let’s stop by the hospital first.”

They (and their bikes) survived the travel. The two of them, whole. Even with some extras, actually! (Leeches. Leeches all over their legs were the extras.) Plus, they had a stomachache, but they were 80% certain it was because of the rice they had for lunch and not because they caught a deadly illness.

Hmm, 70% certain.

“That’s the last time I’m listening to you, Connor. Fuck.”

“Sorry? At least we’re still alive and we reached Bartica in time?”

“At what cost, Connor? At what cost?”

* * *

Georgetown was a nicer place than Bartica to crash for a day. After spending the night in the cheapest hostel of the city with ten strangers, sleeping with their bags as pillows, they decided to splurge on a hotel to rest some.

“I’m never moving,” Dex shouted in the pillow.

“You will have to, because you’ve got mud up to your eyebrows and if you dirty this bed I’ll make you sleep on the floor.”

“If you want me to move, you have to go draw me a bath. I’m only moving to go there.”

They ate dinner (picked up by Whiskey somewhere in the street) on the bed, while trying to decide on a channel to watch on the TV.

“Everything is in English,” Dex deplored.

“Yeah. Guyana for you. Did you want some Spanish now? Not sure you could have understood anything...”

“Stop mocking me! I _did_ get better at Spanish!”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Listen.”

“I’m all ears, Dex. I mean, not as much as you, but, still.”

“First, fuck you, second: _el gato blanco es en la casa, pero la mujer esta_ fuera _de la casa.”_

Whiskey was _flabbergasted_.

“Wow.”

“Stop with the flat tone, Señor Sassy Pants.”

“No, I’m truly impressed,” Whiskey said, not impressed at all.

“You better be. That’s what you decided to settle for. We’re engaged, may I remind you…”

“Hmm, speaking about that,” Whiskey started, his mouth full of food.

He took the laptop in his bag to put it between them on the bed.

“We’ve got a day to kill (he swallowed) and a stable Internet connection. What about starting to wonder about the whole wedding planning thing?”

“How do you even start wedding planning?” Dex asked, taking the computer to type exactly that in the search bar.

_Four hours_ of research on dozens of websites with contradicting opinions, Excel spreadsheets of estimated budgets, reviews of venues around all New England, information about married student grants, and pages and pages of notes in Whiskey’s notebook later, both boys looked at each other, the eyes vacant.

“Love…”

“I changed my mind _, it’s out of the question_ that we ever plan a wedding.”

“You read my mind.”

* * *

🐸

_Chowder_  
> [Picture of the inside of the SAP Center. There are people on the ice and in the bleachers, and it’s a bit blurry]  
> FIRST DAY OF PROSPECT CAMP WITH THE S H A R S K  
> 🦈🦈🦈🦈  
> I3M SO EXCITD

_Nursey_  
> yeah we can see that lol you’re vibrating so much you can’t take a picture

_Dex_  
>> Enjoy!!!! Do your best!!!

_Chowder_  
> [Selfie of Chowder, grinning, and he definitely moved when he took the picture]  
> YES CAPTAIN

_Dex_  
>> I havent captaind you yet I just got elected  
>> [Picture: selfie from a tiny, tiny road. Behind Dex? The coastal Amazonian forest.]  
>> We just passed the Suriname border yester day

_Nursey_  
> Fuck  
> You both win  
> [Selfie: Nursey grimacing in a cubicle.]  
> Well I’m in the middle of an internship at my uncle’s job

_Dex_  
>> Is that a paid internship

_Nursey_  
> Yes

_Chowder_  
> You have no idea how much you’re the one winning

* * *

Suriname was exhausting. And it was all their fault.

They stopped in a hostel in Paramaribo for only one night, and that’s where the mistakes began.

So. In their defense, the group of four backpackers they met in the hostel were great. They had a fun time pre-gaming with them in the lounge, and all that, but after Whiskey and Dex planned to go to bed and to sleep. Because they had just biked for miles and miles today and they were exhausted.

But one of the guys told them about this _great bar_ the next street over that they _had to try_ as they would only be here for one night, so Whiskey and Dex looked at each other, shrugged, and went to the bar. It was only one beer.

They found new friends there, some of them locals, who knew about this place. So yeah. If a local tells you that there is a GREAT place to go see, you follow the local. So Whiskey and Dex followed the backpackers and the locals to the second bar. It was just one more beer. And honestly, it was really tame and not such a great place anyway.

So then there was the third bar (because the second one wasn’t great so it doesn’t count), and then Whiskey wasn’t really sure how, but they ended in a nightclub. Then again, not a crazy night club or anything, but if the night was _hazy_ before, it was nothing from once they were inside the club. Whiskey only remembered flashes. And the flashes definitely didn’t make any sense. Like, it involved people on bikes in the middle of the dancefloor.

“Fuck, I think I hallucinated half the night before.”

“Uh, yeah.”

Whiskey sat up in a bolt when he heard the voice – just to see one of the three backpackers, still laying in a bed near his.

Shit, he was in the hostel. In bed. Not still in the club.

“What the hell?”

“We all took taz yesterday,” the girl supplied.

“Taz?”

“Ecstasy? Plus there was alcohol, so. Not great mix. But the club really wasn’t that great, so…”

Oh. Oh shit.

No wonder that Whiskey felt like an old chewing-gum on the pavement. He was physically hurting, everywhere. He fell back on his bed, and was taken by an _intense_ nausea.

At the same time, even if he didn’t remember much of the night, well… What he _did_ remember was great. He remembered leaving audio notes Tango and Ford on their group chat to cry about how much he loved them. And that Dex went up to everyone around to tell them how much he loved him. And he had hugged two of the backpackers for nearly ten minutes, each of which he remembered clearly.

It was so weird.

“It’s your first time taking some?” the girl asked.

Whiskey just nodded, even if she probably couldn’t see him from where she was.

“You’ll see, the comedown will be hell. You’ll want to take some more right away because you will feel so sad, but don’t. Just find something to do to not think about it all.”

Well, it was 8AM, they had slept one hour and a half, and they had 57 miles to bike today, so Whiskey didn’t worry about having something to do take his mind off the sentiment of emptiness he was indeed feeling right now.

“Whis’… I’m gonna puke.”

Mmh, first he’d have to manage to get Dex up, probably.

* * *

They didn’t talk for a while, just biked. Until about ten AM, when Dex went a bit faster, to catch up with Whiskey who was just in front of him on the small road.

“Huh?”

“‘Sky. Can we agree that last night was _crazy_?”

“Well. I mean. Yes. I think I fell in love with everyone.”

“But today hurts like a bitch.”

“Yeah, definitely.”

“I don’t know what to make of this experience.”

“Just bike and don’t think about it for now. We’ve got thirty more miles to do.”

* * *

Going through customs between Suriname and Guiana seemed like it was going to be complicated, until Dex got to show their US passports, and especially, flex his French skills. Suddenly, the whole process was way quicker.

“Really Dex?” Whiskey asked, once they were out of customs. “I thought it’d take _hours,_ and just some French and we’re in?”

“My theory is that since metropolitan French has open borders, they sent all their land officers to Guiana where they’re zealous out of pure boredom. Anyway, welcome to Europe.”

“Europe.”

“Well, the European Union,” Dex corrected as he sat on his bike. “But poor and with overpriced imported goods only.”

* * *

“Since when do you speak French?” Whiskey asked, his bike next to Dex’ while they were riding on a coastal road with _no one_ around.

“Mhm. I live in Maine. I’ve always been to schools with some French classes, and we had penpal programs every year since like, third grade? I just kept contact with most of them.”

“Wow, cool.”

“Yep! One from Canada, that I’ve met a few times, and three from Europe. We’re basically regular friends now, speaking on Whatsapp and all, except for one with whom we only still communicate through letters. I’ve been to France to visit the two others the summer before college. I had saved for years for that. So yeah, writing, reading, watching French videos and all that. I spoke with Jack in French too? Well, less now because when I see him, there’s always other people here, but still. I’m not _great_ but I’m good enough.”

“That’s impressive.”

“Dude, you speak like three languages,” Dex shrugged, both hands away from the handlebars because they were only going straight away anyway. “My French is nothing next to that.”

“I don’t ‘speak like three languages’. I spoke English at home, Spanish with my mom and her family, and I started Portuguese in college because as I’m a quarter Brazilian I should at least try.”

“Where is your mother from exactly? Are we going through there?”

“Some Bolivia, some Peru. So no, not on our way.”

“Aw, shucks.”

“Maybe next time? We could try to bike a North-South instead of West-East – maybe start in Mexico, go all the way down to Chile…”

Dex hummed at that. Next time. He liked this.

“And your father? Where is he from?”

“Mostly Ireland. Like you. I mean, it’s been a few generations his family is in the US, but still, we’re maybe cousins…”

“What? Am not- Whiskey, _I’m not Irish_.”

“Whaat? But Nursey and Chowder-”

“Are full of shit. Just because I’m a ginger- _Poindexter_. It’s French. It’s literally the anglicisation of a French name. You are more Irish than I am. _Nursey_ is more Irish than I am. Fuck, _everyone_ is more Irish than I am, because _I’m not.”_

“Oh, shit.”

Dex turned towards Whiskey, slowly.

“What.”

“Well. I wanted to surprise you, so I started to learn Irish on Duolingo, and…”

“Oh my God.”

“Tá brón orm…?”

* * *

[Instagram picture; Whiskey and Dex Posing in front of the European spaceport of Kourou. There’s a space shuttle right behind them.]

**@connor.whisksksks** next means of transport in hope we’ll reach rio in time 🚀👨🚀👨🚀

* * *

**Jack, William**

>> Je pensai pas que le français serait autant dur ici!!

> Ah oui ils parlent sûrement plus créole c’est encore un niveau au-dessus de mon français

>> J’essaie de faire comme si je comprenais tout pour impressionner whiskey mais c’est compliqué  
>> Aussi c’est très loin de ce que je me souvenais de la France quand j’y ai été  
>> C’est comme s’ils ont oublié de donner des sous

> :’-D  
> c’est exactement ça

>> on a été à Kourou et on vient d’arriver à cayenne donc là ça va mais st-laurent  
>> wallah khey c’est chaud du cul

> ah si tu dis wallah…

* * *

“Vous avez fait tout le voyage _en vélo_ depuis les États-Unis? Han. J’aurais jamais pu…”

“On s’y habitue vite… Ça fait des mollets tout d’acier.”

The owner of the restaurant where they stopped in for a late lunch after a long morning of biking had proposed to host them for the night. They would never say no to a free night somewhere. She was driving them here, the bikes in her big car’s trunk. Her husband was working in some administrative building of Cayenne, or something, she had said, Whiskey hadn’t followed the conversation at all, way too tired.

Shit, he hoped it wasn’t a sunstroke.

The lady lived in a beautiful house in a nice neighbourhood of Cayenne, full of metropolitans who moved it for work. Whiskey wasn’t sure of what to think about it all, especially after crossing literal slums with his bike since he arrived here.

Honestly, right now, he was so tired that he only cared for a shower and a bed.

The lady had led them to two guest rooms (they insisted that they only needed one, really, they didn’t want to impose the cleaning of two rooms) and told them that her kids would be back to school in one hour. Or, someone would knock when it was dinner time.

The second the door closed, Whiskey stripped down to his boxers.

“Oh, wow. You’re not losing anytime- not that I complain,” Dex said, red in the face.

“Shh. I just want to sleep,” Whiskey replied, jumping under the blankets.

When he woke up, it was dark outside. It didn’t mean much, so close to the equator. The sun rises and sets always at the same time, always so quickly, so early.

He didn’t move, for a while. He just looked at Dex, who was sitting against the headboard of the bed, looking at his phone.

He looked sad.

Slowly, Whiskey creeped his hand towards Dex’ thigh, to show him that he was here. Dex didn’t turn his head, or acknowledged him in any way. He just asked:

“What am I doing wrong?”

“A lot, like everyone on this Earth.”

“Why must I be the ugly duckling among my siblings?”

Dex had a lot of siblings. Whiskey had tried to learn all of their names. There was Thomas, his older brother, Damian, his twin, and his mom had remarried with a guy who already had a daughter about Dex’ age, Leah, and his Mama and Stepdad had two other kids after that, Alex and Carolinn, or something, and Dex lived with all of them when he was in Maine. And his dad had remarried too and had two other kids, also.

And that was without considering all the cousins that were raised with them.

“My father posted on Facebook about all the new football equipment he bought for my half-brother,” Dex started, visibly hurt. “When I – I had – no, I still have to work for my hockey stuff. He goes to his practices, his games. He has never seen me play. Or seen Damian when he was still playing basketball. I. I just don’t know. My parents divorced when we were babies, you know? He lives on the other side of Maine now. We only see him when it’s the holidays, but… I mean. His new family has always been more important, I guess. I don’t even know if I ever spent one-on-one time with him, ever. I… I don’t even know why I’m trying. To establish contact, to send him texts, all that. He doesn’t really care. He knows I couldn’t visit him so much during summer break anymore because I spent my days on a boat working for my hockey equipment, but he never cared. He could have helped me from the beginning if he wanted to be a good dad, but no. He’s got a better, new family, that isn’t the living proof of a failed relationship. 

“Babe…”

“I’m an idiot. He doesn’t care. I need to stop trying. My mom isn’t much better, always caring about the youngest kids, even when we were also still kids and we needed her – I mean, caring about them, when she wasn’t busy just leaving them to us so she could do her own thing. When’s the last time I’ve talked with her? Really talked with her? I just- I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Why am I less interesting and why do my parents care less about me than my siblings? Am I really that boring? Should I have been a terror in school like Damian? A guy who can’t hold a job like Thomas and who still lives rent-free at his mom’s so there’s someone who does the laundry for him? I just don’t know. My brothers have always been high maintenance because they were always in trouble, my stepsister was only here two weekends a month, my half siblings are spoiled and don’t understand what ‘no’ means… And I’m just here, in the middle, and no one gives a shit because I’m just normal and doing normal.”

When Dex wiped his eyes, there were tears.

“Fuck, I hate them sometimes. Why do I fucking care about them? About what they think about me? I know I’m never going to be good enough for them anyway.”

* * *

_Day 53_

There is something about travelling, away from home. You’re lost. You can have all the maps in the world, a working GPS, but at the end of the day, and at the beginning, and every moment in between, you’re lost. You don’t know where you went, you don’t know where you are, you don’t know where to go. Sure, you may know the names of the places, the way to get there – but you’re lost. You don’t know shit about it. You’re just passing. You don’t matter. You won’t change shit. You’re just passing, it’s not your place, you’re not at the top of the world. You’re just passing.

So you think, a lot, you reflect, in yet another bed you’ll forget about soon enough. Why am I doing that, getting lost. Why do I feel the need to draw lessons from all of this to sound pedantic and more intelligent than other people. Will this intense self-reflection be enough to make me a citizen of the world. Why am I even thinking about all of this.

I think that’s because we’re human. Travelling, getting willingfully lost far, far away, makes you realise that even at home – you’re lost. Even if it’s your place, you’re not at the top of the world.

You make mountains out of molehills in your world. What seems so important – you realise it’s not. Out of _your_ world, in The World, the big one, the one everyone can only conceptualize from far away – it doesn’t matter. No one gives a shit. What would be life-changing for you doesn’t actually matter in the grand scheme of things. So be good. Be respectful. Be happy. Drop the parts of your world that won’t help you going further. Just like travelling is limited by money and too little PTO, you don’t have the time to bother with shit.

You travel through life just like you travel through a place. You’re just passing.


	6. LEG 5-6: Macapá-Belo Horizonte-Rio de Janeiro

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  **  
> [MAP OF LEG 5](https://66.media.tumblr.com/c60d01165c7006c89844f27eaa705735/6f1f8a910e2e361e-96/s1280x1920/1c449b2e9448fbe9a96e97cda8c210d556706d50.jpg)  
>  **  
>    
>    
>  **  
> MAP OF LEG 6  
>  **  
> 

_Day 56 – Feirrera Gomes-Macapa – 56 miles_

Weather: Warm

We’re late, so we’re going to do the Macapa-São Luis leg by sea. We found a cargo boat that can take us. We’re leaving tonight.

\- _Connor_

* * *

**William, Connor**

>> dex where are you  
>> It’s gonna be our turn

> sorry I wason the phone with the secrteary regarding the grant  
> I m on my way  
> if we wantit we need to send our paper-work asap

>> can’t be any quicker than Rio, I asked a clerk  
>> we need a set date and to have been on the territory for a while

> almost here almost here

>> William if I miss the ferry tonight because I’m still stuck in administrative hell I’m going to kill you

* * *

[Instagram story, of several videos.

_First_ ; Whiskey is filming with his phone, as a selfie – you can see him in the foreground, grinning at the camera, and Dex is in the background, looking heartbroken. They’re on the back deck of a cargo ship, going its merry way on the ocean.

“Dex, tell them what you just did.”

“Listen, it’s not because I was the one controlling it that _I_ did it. You’re as faulty as me.”

_Second_ ; Whiskey had turned the camera a bit closer to himself, and says:

“Dex decided it would be a good idea to take the drone to make shots of the boat. So he took the drone out-”

“You agreed.”

“He made it fly. But the ship goes too fast…”

_Third_ ; the camera is towards the ocean. You can faintly see a small black thing in the air, getting farther and farther.

_Fourth_ ;

“At absolutely no moment you tried to stop me,” Dex mumbled. “You said it was a great idea.”

“It’s Nursey’s drone. He lent it to us and now because of you it’s stranded at sea.”

_Fifth_ ; the camera focuses on the drone for a few seconds and then zooms on it. It’s trying really hard, but it will never go fast enough to catch up with the ship.

“Goodbye, little angel who left too soon,” Whiskey said, with a fake sad voice.

“That’s it. It’s too far, I don’t receive the image on my phone anymore. It’s gone.”]

[Instagram picture of the drone on the cargo, before its death. Dex is calibrating it, not knowing that he’s about to send it to its cruel demise]

**@connor.whisksksks** “We travel for romance, we travel for architecture, and we travel to be lost.” – Ray Bradbury

@nursheeeey I’m goign to kill you both. My drone  
@chowchowder It’s okay nursey it’s your third drone already i saw you drown the first two in the lake on the quad

* * *

When Dex came back from his walk on the boat to the room with all the bunk beds, it was almost empty. It was still early – most of the drivers, who were sharing the room with them, were still in the cafeteria of the ship to drink and socialise. There were only two of them here, already sleeping – and Whiskey. In their sleeping bag, trembling.

Dex could hear him crying.

Slowly, he made his way to the bed and sat here, trying not to spook Whiskey.

“Hey.”

“Fuck,” Whiskey just mumbled, trying to wipe his tears.

“Wanna go outside?”

It took a minute or two, but finally they managed to silently go out of the room, Whiskey with the sleeping bag around his shoulders, and Dex with one of their small backpacks.

There was no one on the bridge of the boat at this hour.

“What’s happening?” Dex asked.

“Parents.”

“I’ve got just what we need for that.”

While saying that, Dex took out of the backpack some warm beers he had snuck out of the cafeteria of the cargo.

Boy, this man was perfect.

Whiskey took one right away and drank some.

“Wanna tell me more?” Dex insisted.

“Well. We were close enough to the coast so I got some reception and I received some texts my parents had sent today. So you know. Just about me, being an inconsiderate son who refuses to call whenever I _sense_ that my mother wants me to call when I’m half a continent away in places with awful signal, you know? And they gave us a hundred bucks on the GoFundMe, so obviously it means that it’s only thanks to them that we were able to leave, so the least I can do is to not be a bad son. But I mean, even if I called everyday I’d be a bad son, and I’m _this_ close to just Venmo them the fucking hundred bucks they gave us so they’ll stop using it against me. Fuck. It’s the same for college, they sent me a bit of money, so they feel like they can just _choose_ what I study and decide what I can do and not do.”

“Sound charming.”

“Aren’t they? They’re pieces of work. My parents – my mother especially, my father was always working –, they spent our childhood, comparing my older sister and I. Do you know about… Golden children, scapegoats, forgotten kids, all that? My older sister and I were always… Sometimes the golden kid, sometimes the scapegoat, it was always changing, so of course we were competing to be the “loved kid”, you know? We were bullied by our parents and we bullied each other in return because that was the only way to receive some love. It was like that for years, until we were in high school, when my sister basically became exactly like my mother and she became the permanent golden child and I became the permanent scapegoat. And my little sister was the forgotten kid. My parents wanted another boy, but they had her instead, and so she’s… Here. So yeah, she didn’t grow up to be a good person either. She’s always in trouble, with schools, her friends, the police, because that’s the best way she found to have some attention and because my parents don’t parent her anyway.”

Fuck. Half a sip of beer was all Whiskey needed for the dam to break.

“Fuck, no wonder my vovó got the fuck back to Brazil once my grandad died! Her son living the closest to her is a fucking bitch and he married a fucking bitch! And if giving only money with strings attached to manipulate people and being narcissist asses wasn’t enough, they _also_ are homophobic fucks! I’m so fucking- tired of having to be straight and avoid making waves in hope they’ll still help with school!”

Whiskey jumped on his feet, his beer still in hand and the sleeping bag long forgotten.

“They just _exhaust_ me! Fuck!”

Dex was quick to get up too, and he swore:

“Fuck them!”

“Yeah, fuck them!” Whiskey shouted, and then, towards the ocean: “Fuck our parents!”

“Fuck them!”

“Fuuuuuck!”

“Hey! Que fazeis?”

Whiskey and Dex started, and turned around to notice that, well, they weren’t that alone on the bridge. Two of the truck drivers were here, and they were looking at them, frowning.

“Ah, desculpe,” of course, that was _now_ that Whiskey's four semesters of Portuguese were betraying him, “dizemos aos nossos pais… ser fodidos?”

“Ah, ok. Criai mais alto,” one of the guys nodded, before they left.

Dex and Whiskey looked at the two drivers walking away, both definitely drunk.

“I think we have just been blessed by our guardian angels,” Whiskey just said.

* * *

**Rio Mega Trip 3000**

_Chowder_  
> [Picture: A big suitcase filled to the brim with clothes. Half of them are Sharks-themed.]  
> Can’t wait to see you in RiiiiioooOOOOo 💃!!!

_Dex_  
>> Chowder its only in 10 days

_Ford_  
> We need to be prepared!!!! How the weather there??? _  
_> Is that a suitable outfit  
> [Picture: Ford took a selfie in front of her mirror. She dressed like she was cosplaying Indiana Jones’ little sister or something, instead of going to one of the most touristy coastal cities of Earth]

_Tango_  
> ford it’s winter there  
> because it’s in the other hemisphere and all that

_Ford_  
> Crap  
> What about that  
> [Picture, sent 1 minute 30 after the first one: Now Ford dressed like she was going to go fight the Siberian Tundra with her short but vicious arms]

_Whiskey_  
> Are you for real  
> [Selfie: Whiskey and Dex sitting on the bridge of the cargo boat. It’s sunny, so sunny, and they’re visibly sweating like pigs.]

_Farmer_  
> 😂

* * *

_Day 58 – São Luis_

As we have limited time to do our trip, we had some parts of the trip planned to be made by public transport. Crossing the Amazon forest is among those parts. We don’t plan to die right away anyway.

The boat just arrived in São Luis late today. We’re taking the bus early tomorrow, direction Goiânia.

\- _William_

****

_Day 61_

I am never taking a bus ever again 🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕 FUCK YOU BUS  
FUCK  
 **YOU**

****

_Edit_ : my mom sent me a text telling me that we couldn’t keep the blog entry as it is. She’s right. I took some time to calm down and think. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have gotten angry like that. It’s not the fault of the bus that we arrived 20 hours late, that the road was so shitty we couldn’t sleep at all and that we burst a tire, that it was so hot we were swimming in our own sweat, that we were sitting next to a drunk guy who spent the whole trip drinking even more and who vomited in the bus and pissed us off.

The bus is just a machine that is doing his job as well as it can with what we give him.

We’re taking the train to Belo Horizonte tomorrow, it can only be a better experience.

****

_Day 62 – Belo Horizonte_

**FUCK YOU TRAIN**

* * *

They were on the last part of the trip, and it began to show.

They were both tired and not tired anymore. They’re weren’t as exhausted as before after a day of biking, they didn’t need to stop as often to catch their breath, the miles and miles had, without a doubt, made them physically stronger. But there was this faint, passive fatigue, that was slightly stronger as day went by, and that wouldn’t get any better. A dull ache in the muscles that could almost be forgotten during the day, but definitely not when they were waking up in the morning. They love to see new places, to continue their trip, but at the same time, some homesickness too.

Their gear was slowly falling apart, more stuff only worked thanks to well-placed tape and goodwill than not. Dex had finally stopped sunburning and was now half a shade darker than when he left -and he was _covered_ in freckles. Whiskey hadn’t shaved in two months, and had now a solid (ok, almost solid) amount of facial hair – Dex, at least, after a very awkward start, was now sporting an okay beard. Their clothes had for long now stopped being “mine and yours” and had been pooled as collective property to share, all that mattered being that they managed to wear every day a clean-looking pair of boxers and socks.

Oh, and they both discovered after two months without a haircut that they had curly hair.

It was the last leg, and both agreed that they didn’t know if they couldn’t wait to be back home or if they wanted to continue for the rest of their lives.

They hadn’t even talked about hockey in a while, so there’s that to think about.

* * *

[Youtube video excerpt. You can _see_ how hot it is. Whiskey is biking on a road, and filming Dex in front of him. Dex’s T-Shirt is damp with sweat.

Cut. Whiskey is now biking next to Dex, who is drinking his entire bottle in one go.

“Thirsty?”

“Hell, I hate the heat.”

“We usually start early in the morning, stop for lunch and to nap in the shade, and once the temperature lowers we go again until we find somewhere to sleep,” Whiskey explains.

“But guess who’s late on their itinerary and can’t take a three-hour break a day?”

Dex tries to drink some more, but his bottle is empty.

“Fuck. Next time we’re going to Scandinavia.”]

* * *

“Hey Dex…” Whiskey asked, as they were sitting under a tree to eat lunch (cans of chickpeas and some tortillas).

“Hmm?”

“Did you know that we only breathe with one nostril at a time?”

At this, Dex froze, his lunch forgotten.

“What?”

Whiskey just shrugged, and Dex began to put his fingers under his nose to breathe strongly on them.

“Oh my god. You’re right,” Dex said, his hand still under his nose. “I only breathe with my left nostril? What is wrong with me?”

“Nothing, it’s just like that. It’s your nasal cycle. It changes every two or three hours, I think.”

“You mean that this afternoon, I’ll do the same and I’ll notice I only breathe with my right nostril?”

“It’s cool, isn’t it?”

“No! It’s awful! I didn’t want to know that!” Dex contested (but he still had his hand in front of the mouth) “I didn’t… _Need_ to have this knowledge! I don’t know what to do with it! I don’t want to go with my day and feel the need to check through which nostril I’m breathing! It’s too much! I want to forget it all! Why did you tell me that, Connor?”

“Wow, you’re a drama queen,” Whiskey said, going back to his lunch. “I’m left to right now.”

* * *

They had stopped in a small town the night before. The family that hosted them had asked if they wanted to go to church in the morning, for Sunday’s mass, and they agreed to go before hitting the road.

It had been a while since they’d been in a church. They hadn’t during their trip, and couldn’t remember when the last time they had at home.

The church was white, and even if objectively small -it was so big next to the other buildings of the town, and at the center of it.

There was something nice, cozy, familiar, about going to mass so far from home.

They stopped at the market to buy lunch to go before going back on the road.

Whiskey walked around the stands a bit, and quickly ran back into Dex, who was eying some acarajés.

“Carne?” he asked the vendor. When the man shook his head, Dex tried: “Quiero… that”, pointing at the acarajés.

“Dex, you’re speaking Spanish,” Whiskey intervened. “Or, Spenglish. Try: _Eu quero isso_.”

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Dex just groaned.

The vendor laughed, but had already filled a bag to give them.

* * *

That night, they set the tent far enough from the road, and they laid on their sleeping bag outside, to watch the stars while sipping beers. It wasn’t the same as back home. You could actually see them, for starters.

“Is that what life is supposed to be like?” Whiskey asked.

“Fuck. I sure hope so.”

“No one cares about us right now. We’re so small.”

“That’s the best thing.”

“Yep. We can just be Dex and Whiskey. Whiskey and Dex. All’s good.”


	7. STOPOVER 2: Rio de Janeiro

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :-)

They reached Rio by the end of the morning. 

They immediately checked into the hostel that their friends had booked – but they _splurged_ on a private room. They deserved at least that.

The showers were communal showers for the whole floor, meaning they could take one at the same time. Once they weren’t smelling like ponies, Whiskey took Dex’s hand to lead him in the streets of Rio, looking for the biggest, fattest meal they could find in the street, that they inhaled in two minutes.

“What do you want to do next?” Whiskey asked, after flagging the waitress to order some more food because boy, were they _hungry_.

“ _Burp-_ Sleep.”

“Really. We’re in Rio and you wanna sleep.”

“Yeah, really. I just wanna eat, shit and sleep this afternoon.”

“We have to go to the consulate to get our papers and all that.”

“Shh. We’re going to do _nothing_ this afternoon, and we’ll go out tonight and visit some more tomorrow. The gang arrives the day after tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah. I guess we can go to the consulate later.”

* * *

**Rio Mega Trip 3000**

_Ford_  
> At the airport!  
> [Picture of Tango and her, in one of New York’s airports]

_Chowder_  
> Oh lucky Farmer and I are still in the car  
> My mom is driving us  
> [Picture of his mom driving them]  
> Nursey isn’t with you?

_Ford_  
> No he’s in the bathroom  
> He spilled his starbucks on himself

_Dex_  
>> RIP him I guess

_Ford_  
> Dex… Are you… Nice?

_Dex_  
>> Haha. I’ll let you know I can be a decent human being when I want to.

_Ford_  
> Can’t wait to arrive anyway!!! Our plane lands at 6:40 am

_Chowder_  
> Ours at 7!!

_Ford_  
> So we should be at the hostel at like, 8-9-ish AM??  
> Airports downtown are practical lol  
> We won’t have access to the rooms yet right?

_Dex_  
>> No but there’s a lobby to put your stuff in dw  
>> The hostel is cool you’ll see and the breakfast is 👌👌  
>> sleep tight in the plane and wear comfortable shoes we did a hike this morning and we want to show you a cliff tomorrow morning

_Nursey_  
> I’m half certain that you’ve already said to me something among the lines of “I’ll show you a cliff”  
> Probably because you threatened me to throw me in it

_Whiskey_  
> Haha.

_Ford_  
> Are you for real  
> It’s my vacations!!!! I won’t HIKE  
> Right after HOURS OF BEING ON A PLANE  
> Why are YOU hiking you did enough exercise already!!!!!!!!!!!

_Dex_  
>> Don’t worry, it’s easy and what you’ll get to see there will surprise you

_Chowder_  
> Dex are you buzzfeed

* * *

When the squad of tourists arrived in the hostel, Dex and Whiskey were already sitting in the lobby, wearing their cleanest socks and with _almost_ combed hair.

Tango was the first to jump on them, hugging Whiskey tight and shouting in his ear – but Chowder was quick to do the same with Dex.

“Hi!”

“Guys, I missed you so much!”

“Haha- Tango, we missed you too, but let me breathe…”

“Tango, let us say hello too…”

“Oh, God, you’ve changed so much,” Ford said, after hugging Whiskey tight.

Maybe it was the beards, the longer hair? Or their now even more wonderful calves highlighted by their fancy (read: not cycling) shorts? Maybe the effort that they had worn hiking button-downs (even if they obviously hadn’t been ironed in a while)? Or the tans.

“You both look like knockoffs of Bear Grylls,” Ford concluded.

“Wow, thanks a lot,” Whiskey deadpanned. “This’ill be in my Instagram profile.”

“So, let’s go now,” Dex said. “Sorry, but we need to stop at the consulate and the civil registry before the hike to get some paperwork – everything is in this neighbourhood, so it won’t be long, don’t worry…”

* * *

They stopped at the top of the cliff. From there, they could see the whole city – and even if they went to the outskirts of the city with public transport instead of walking, the newcomers were _exhausted_ by the climb.

Whiskey and Dex really were now too powerful for them.

There weren't a lot of people around, there was a little wind, some sun, a tree near the cliff, the ocean – so Dex and Whiskey looked at each other, nodded, and walked near the tree, followed by the others. Here, Dex said:

“Nursey, marry us.”

“Hmm. Sumimasen, _nani the fuck?_ ”

Whiskey just grabbed Dex hands, and said, insistent:

“Marry us. Are you an officiant or not?”

“Yeaaaah, I’ve got a licence from the Internet, that only works in the State of New York, so, you know, _not here._ And, what the hell, how that, marrying you, that comes from nowhere, _what the hell_?”

The whole group was now looking that them like they had grown another head. Like. Okay, Dex was right. They _were_ surprised by what they’re getting to see here.

“We know. That’s why we went to the Registry Office this morning,” Dex replied, rolling his eyes. “We got our birth certificates and all that to be sent to the consulate. So we’re already technically married. We just would like to have a real ceremony now, in a language both of us can understand.”

“That’s where we went this morning? To get your papers and then go to your _marriage?_ ” Ford asked.

“Gosh I knew there was something sketchy. There was this guy who made us sign something,” Chowder said. “We’re witnesses of a marriage we didn’t even know was happening.”

“Can you just, like that, get married in Brazil? Like, is this Vegas, or something?” Farmer asked.

“Well no, technically we asked for it back in Macapá but we couldn’t do it then, we needed to be here for a while and some papers, and all that…” Whiskey replied.

“Wow that was really planned.”

“Hello, we would like to have an actual wedding ceremony now. So, Nursey, will you marry us or will the boring paper signing be the only memory we’ll get to have of our wedding day?” Dex complained.

“Uh- yes, yes, I can improvise something, just wait…”

Honestly, the whole thing was a mess. On Dex’ side, Chowder and Farmer. On Whiskey’s, Ford and Tango. In the middle, Nursey, who was reading off his phone a WikiHow page on how to officiate a wedding.

Whiskey and Dex wouldn’t have it any other way, to be honest. It was morning, they had just climbed on the top of a cliff, had a view on the sun, the sea, the city. What could be better? They didn’t even really register anything that Nursey was saying, to be honest.

“Ok, so… I introduced the thing… I need to address you now, so: Guys, _really?”_

“Dude we really need the married students scholarship,” Whiskey replied.

Dex coughed.

“And we love each other dearly of course,” Whiskey added, rolling his eyes.

“Ok cool,” Nursey said, his eyes glued to his phone. “So it says you can say your vows here. If you have vows. You have to improvise some otherwise, I hate being the only of us three stressing out right now.”

Dex took a deep breath, and he started.

“Connor… I love you, and spending every hour with you the last two months made me love you even more. And I have no idea of what the future’s got for us, what we’re going to do, next year, in two years, in five - but, be it somewhere or everywhere, all I know is that I vow to go there with you.”

“I-” Whiskey started, wiping away a tear, “I’m not sure of what to say, ah. William, you… We may not be important, in the World, but you are, in my world. And now, and here, that’s all that matters to me. I want to travel through life with you just like we travelled all those places. I want to spend the rest of my days getting lost with you.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Dex smiled at that – a big, huge smile, and he clasped his hands even more to Whiskey’s. Their friends began to clap for them, which made them both giggle.

“Okay, so,” Nursey continued. “Hum, William- Dude what’s your full name?”

“William Jean Poindexter.”

“And I’m Connor Rafael Whisk, just so you know.”

“William Jean Poindexter, do you take Connor Rafael Whisk as your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do.”

“Connor Rafael Whisk, do you take William Jean Poindexter as your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do.”

“Cool, great, so now you’re husband and husband. You can exchange the rings.”

“We don’t have rings,” Whiskey said.

“What? You don’t have rings?”

“With what money, Nursey?” Dex asked.

“Oh my God. Just kiss, okay?”

And kiss, they did, under the tree on the top of the cliff of Rio de Janeiro, with all their friends and a bunch of curious strangers clapping and cheering them.

Dex and Whiskey. Whiskey and Dex. All’s good.

* * *

Chowder and Farmer were talking with Nursey to Whiskey and Dex while the others were trailing behind, when Tango caught up with them to be part of the conversation. After a while, Chowder felt a hand on his back, and turned to see Ford, who winked and made a sign for him and Farmer to slow down – and as soon as they were far enough behind for Whiskey and Dex to not hear, she said:

“Tango had an idea. Nursey already agreed. As a wedding gift, we should get together to buy them a pair of rings. They won’t be fancy five k dollars diamonds, but still something sturdy. Are you in? How much can you pitch in?”

“Oh, that sounds so great,” Chowder said.

“Just let me see what my bank account looks like,” Farmer added, nodding.

* * *

**SMH All Stars**

_Ford_  
> We arrived in Rio, got bounced around administrative buildings all morning, and then went on a hike – where Whiskey and Dex, at the top of a cliff, decided to get married.

_Bitty_  
> With all due respect, what the fucking hell?

_Holster_  
> they what

_Hops_  
> @Connor @William sumimasen, nani the fuck

_Dex  
_>> OOOh so that’s from YOu that Nurse got that from

_Bitty_  
> That’s not the point, you got WHAT young man

_Holster_  
> you just, woke up this morning and decided to get married???

_Ford_  
> [3 pictures of the ceremony. They’re quite good]

_Shitty_  
> congrast but u sure its a gd idea  
> I meanits fast no ofnse  
> sincewhen r u evn togehtr

_Dex_  
>> We know it’s fast but heck, when you know, you know  
>> We still wanted that after spending the last two months in each other’s pockets and being tired, frustrated, gross all day long  
>> So yeah, we’ve only been together for a few months and be engaged a few weeks and you probably all find it stupid and all idiotic but that’s not for us. And if you all are right and yes, we're too young, we are making a mistake, then too bad for us both. It’s not like we were announcing that we’re having a kid.  
>> But really, we know it’s not a mistake.

_Lardo_  
> Still, why so soon  
> great pics you found the best location

_Dex_  
>> we tried to begin to plan a wedding but the amount of work scared us so we took the easy way out lol  
>> and doing it on this trip had strong symbolism I guess????  
>> also so we can apply for married students scholarships and aid

_Ollie_  
> I’ll PM you what we did with Wicks to get those

_Bitty_  
> wait, since when are you and wicks married

_Ollie_  
> 3 years now

_Bitty_  
> what

_Holster_  
> what

_Lardo_  
> what

_Ford_  
> what

_Dex_  
>> what

_Ollie_  
> what

* * *

It was after half an hour of walking through the old town that their plan was put into place, when Dex was busy telling Tango about the nasal cycle thing (“Yeah, I know Dex, I’m the one who taught Whiskers that”).

“Here,” Farmer suddenly said, pointing a shop.

“Oh, yes, perfect,” Ford agreed.

“Perfect what?” Dex just had the time to ask, before he and Whiskey got dragged in the shop.

Yep. A jewellery shop. Full of jewels, hence the name.

“What the… ?” Whiskey started.

“You’re not leaving without a pair of rings!” Tango said.

“We don’t have money,” Dex insisted.

“Yeah. It’s our wedding gift to you, so you’re welcome. Pick whatever you like,” Nursey said.

“Within a price limit of 328 bucks, though, that’s all we have,” Ford added.

They left the shop soon after, Whiskey and Dex each adorning a simple matte black band on their finger.

“Thank you,” Whiskey said. “Really.”

“You’re welcome. It was an act of love from our parts,” Ford nodded.

“Can we go eat now?” Chowder asked.

Whiskey proposed some street food for lunch, but he was immediately cut off by all his friends.

“You just got married!” Nursey insisted. “We’re going to celebrate in a real restaurant!”

“Guys, I think you give more importance to our wedding than we do,” Dex cut him off.

“It is important!”

“Yes, it’s not nothing, but! The wedding part doesn’t matter to us! Only the married part, you know – we like it, that we basically have the same day as everyday. That’s why we wanted to get married. Because this trip meant a lot to us and us getting married on basically a normal day of said trip was important.”

“You still waited for us to get married!” Chowder and Tango countered.

“Technically, we waited for the papers to arrive,” Dex corrected. And then, seeing the broken, sad face of his two friends: “And we waited for you too I guess.”

“Can we go to a real restaurant then?” Ford asked. “I’ve made a _list_.”

* * *

**Bitty, Dex**

> Dex.

>> Bitty.

> Dex you’re making my life really complicated.  
> ISTG.  
> Married.  
> And I’m not even here to hug y’all (๑•́₋•̩̥̀๑)  
> I wanted to bake for the engagement party when you’ll be back

>> Uh, sorry?  
>> And you can still bake you know.

> Where do you plan to go for the honeymoon

>> Uh  
>> IDK if you’ve heard of the small city of Florianopolis

> are you real.  
> So well then. You just got an email.  
> You’re both in rio for two more nights right? Chowder told me  
> As a wedding gift from Jack & I, we’re paying for your hotel.

>> got the mail  
>> Bitty, it’s a suite in a palace.

> You got married. You wanted a bunk bed in a 20 people dorm in a hostel???

>> We can’t go to a palace. We’ve been wearing the 4 same boxers for the last two months. They won’t let us in.

> They better will!!!!!! It’s paid for!!! If they don’t just tell me I’m going to give them an earful!!!!

>> Is there a laundry room there I’m tired of washing my clothes in sinks

> You just got married and you only think about the laundry.

>> Really, thank you bitty. And thank Jack.

* * *

There was one thing that you couldn’t take away from a palace bridal suite: the bed was _comfortable_.

And so was the bathtub, the jacuzzi on the balcony, the bathrobes, the couch, and the room-service (included in the note, thanks Bitty, thanks Jack) was _delicious_. Oh, and there was champagne.

They had abandoned their friends at the end of the afternoon, stopping in their hostel room to get their bags (they would still use the room to keep their bikes in, they paid for it after all – they gave the keys to their friends if one needed a private room for a reason or another, wink wink and all that).

They both felt a little guilty at first, because their friends came all the way down here to see them, but well, the second they saw the jacuzzi the guilt flew far, far away.

They made out for a while inside it before deciding to get some dinner. While they were waiting for it, Dex disappeared in his bathrobe, carrying the entirety of their wardrobe out of the room, leaving his groom alone in his misery.

So what do you do when your groom runs away on your wedding night and leaves you alone? You phone another man of course!

“Hi Bitty.”

“Oh, hi Connor! I told you to call me when you could, but I didn’t expect it to be so soon.”

“Ah, yes, Dex left with our clothes to get them washed…”

“This effing laundry-” Bitty groaned.

“Bitty. Thank you for the room. You didn’t have to…”

“Listen, Whiskey. I’m proud of you. You’re a great person, and I’m so happy for you.”

“Thanks.”

“You’ve changed a lot this year, really.”

“Yeah,” Whiskey admitted. “A year ago, I still had a girlfriend and was deep in the closet.”

“And now?” Bitty asked, carefully. “I mean, you’re married. It’s not gonna stay a secret, you know? What do you plan to do?”

Yes. The thousand-dollar question. Or, considering what contracts looked like, the _hundreds-of-thousands-of_ - _dollars_ question.

“You know. If I didn’t go to any prospect camp this summer, it’s because the only teams who invited me were teams that hadn’t been great with Jack. At best, who kept silent. So… I think I realised I want to be out. I want a team that would _want me_ , even if they know I’m gay. And if no one does… Who cares? The world is so big. I’d still have so many things to do, if my dream can’t be realised. I can find another, where I won’t have to be someone I’m not.”

“And your parents? Your family?”

“We haven’t told our parents yet. We will once we’re back. But if they think their opinion on who I love matters, they’re wrong now. I- I don’t need that in my life. And for the money, we’ll have a scholarship. I can make it through, my tuition is covered already, maybe with a job on campus to save money…”

“You’ve really changed, Whiskey. I know you don’t like me much and you think I hate you; but I don’t. I… I really care about you, Whiskey. And I’m genuinely happy for you and Dex, and I hope you’ll get to have a lot of good things in your future.”

“Thank you.”

Whiskey took a few seconds, and he added:

“I never really hated you.”

“We’ve been good, honey,” Bitty laughed. “Try to stop in Providence when you’re back, okay?”

“Can you make some tres leches? My mom always makes some, and it’s so good…”

“Haha, you have your head screwed on right I see! Don’t worry, I got your back.”

When Dex came back, he made sure that the door of the room was closed correctly. And then, keeping eye contact with Whiskey who was laying on the bed, he dropped his bathrobe on the floor.

“Isn’t it time for some wedding night sex, husband?”

“Well, room service will be here in like, two minutes,” Whiskey replied, unperturbed.

“Uh, in two minutes we have time to-”

“No.”

“Buuut… Whis…”

“Listen Dex, we need to have mature priorities in life now that we’re married. First the food, then the sex.”

“Why must you always be right?” Dex complained, walking up to the bed to face plant on it, still butt naked.

* * *

Ford expected a lot of things from her vacation, but having Whiskey and Dex knocking at their hostel dorm’s door at 8:45 in the morning right after their wedding night wasn’t in her plans.

“Come on! We have places to go to and things to see!’

“It’s not even 9,” Nursey groaned, his head under his pillow.

“Yeah, sorry we didn’t come earlier, we were busy having insane amounts of sex,” Whiskey shrugged. “And then we had to come all the way here.”

“It’s too early-”

“What? How is it early?”

“Oh, boy.”

* * *

The following day, their friends were up and ready to see them off at 8 AM sharp in front of the hostel. Even if, save for Dex and Whiskey, they all looked like corpses.

They had spent the day before touring the city, and ended on the beach with beers when the sun was setting. They only went back to their hotel/hostel by three AM, so yeah. No wonder their friends were at the end of their ropes now.

Dex and Whiskey didn’t feel any tiredness, because the fatigue was so enmeshed into their bodies it was now part of their DNA.

“We’re going back to bed the second you leave,” Farmer groaned, as she was hugging Dex.

“You only have one week in Rio, go enjoy the city!”

“No.” Ford just said. “Sleep.”

“How can you even be up and ready to go?” Tango asked, eying at them already on their bikes. “You slept like, four hours.”

“You know, we biked 60 miles while coming down from ecstasy…”

“I’m extremely sorry, William, you _what_?” Ford gasped.

“Haha,” Dex just replied. “We’ll see you in Samwell in August!”

One last round of hugs and the question still unanswered, they left – towards the very last part of the trip, Florianópolis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;-)


	8. LEG 7: Rio de Janeiro-Florianópolis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
>  **  
>  [MAP OF THE CHAPTER](https://66.media.tumblr.com/c404c3ab0e16a37105608d27639f66c3/6f1f8a910e2e361e-25/s1280x1920/f60a3e7cc9f631487f6a85ac1a37275420fda724.jpg)   
>  **   
> 

[Youtube video excerpt. They’re at a gas station right outside a city. Dex is holding the camera, and he’s laughing. Whiskey is standing in front of the station’s wall, embarrassed.

“Whiskey, please tell everyone what happened to you.”

“No.”

“Don’t make _me_ say it.”

“Why are you mocking me, William? It could have happened to _you._ ”

“Whiskey, you’ve been making fun of all my misadventures since we left, it’s just karma that something happens to _you_ for once. Let me laugh.”

“ _No_.”

Cut. They’re walking in the streets of the city. Now, it’s very clear that Whiskey’s shorts have ripped, even if he tries to hide it, and you have a direct view of his boxers.

“William Dex Poindexter.”

“Haha.”

“I’m suffering right now, okay?”

Cut. Whiskey has visibly embraced the fact that everyone and their mother would see his boxers while he and Dex where looking for a place where he could buy new cycling shorts.]

[Instagram pictures: on the first, Whiskey from the back, walking with his ripped shorts and Pikachu boxers. On the second, Whiskey looking radiant in new non-ripped cycling shorts he just bought.

**@connor.whisksksks** Everyone has a “before” and an “after” in their life – mine was today, when after walking around with ripped shorts for 30 minutes while looking for new ones, I finally stopped caring that everyone could see my underwear.

@tangotangredi since when fo you like pokémon

@connor.whisksksks i don’t but there’s a point when you’retravelling with someone more or less your size where you stop to wonder whose clothes are whose and you just wear what’s clean

@nursheeeey show off the hockey booty !!]

* * *

It was the last part.

Less than two weeks, more than 700 miles to go. And then they would be done.

Tired or not, wanting to go back home or not, it was sad, in a way.

“I can’t wait to arrive,” Whiskey said, one night, when they were in bed in a small inn. “God, vovó is going to be so surprised…”

“… I’m sorry, what?”

“… What, what?”

“Whiskers. Your grandma _doesn’t know_ we’re crossing the continent by bike to go see her?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“Whiskey.”

“My aunt knows the whole plan! She’s gonna make sure vovó is there at home when we arrive and all.”

“ _Whiskey_.”

* * *

**SMH 2017-2018**

**_10:42_ **

_Nursey_  
> [Picture of Chowder, Ford and Tango around a table in a café. They’re still in Rio, and they look really, really serious.]  
> We talked a lot and we have an issue.

_Hop_  
> Oh, boy

_Nursey_  
> We can’t keep the Haus plan as it is if we’ve got a _married couple_  
> We need to reorganise the whole Haus and maybe new slots would be open for people

_Hop_  
> !!

_Louis_  
>

_Bully_  
> 👁👁

_Nursey_  
> So the current plan is: Attic, Whiskey & Tango – 2nd floor, Chowder, Ford & I  
> Basement, Dex.  
> So if Dex and Whiskey decide to get the attic, Tango would get the basement, but if they decide to keep the basement, then Tango could have a roommate

_Louis_  
> 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

_Ford_  
> In which case we’re not sure if Tango should give dibs or if we’ll decide on a full-team lottery.  
> They’re actually going to be _roommates_ , so I’m for the idea that Tango gets to choose

_Tango_  
> I’d be happy to share with a waffle or to have the basement alone depending on what the guys want to do!!!!!!!!

_Hop_  
> !!!!!!!!!!!

_Nursey_  
> Of course, if Dex and Whiskey want to keep the basement, yada yada

_Hop_  
> I’m vibrating in anticipation

_Louis_  
> I won’t be able to do anything before knowing the answer  
> I want this room  
  


_2:10_

_Whiskey_  
>> y’all are nuts have you seen the size of the attic VS the size of the basement? No way two people live in the basement we take the attic and we’re gonna live our best lives in it

* * *

“So we’re going to see…” Dex began, his hands firmly on his handlebars because he didn’t trust the cars passing them on this road. “Your vovó, of course, but also your aunt? Is she your dad’s sister?”

“Ah, no. My dad and his siblings are all in the US. She is… My vovó’s brother’s daughter? So my… Great-aunt? No. I don’t know. Great-cousin? I don’t know. All my family there is extended family I’ve met a few times, like when my cousins in Arizona got married. This one “aunt”, I’ve seen a bit more often, she travels a lot in Mexico and in California for her job, and she often stops while she’s up North. My grandma lives with her little brother. I think she lives on the first floor, and my great-uncle and his wife and their youngest child on the second floor? He’s a med student a bit older than us. My aunt is my parents’ age and she’s the kid of another of my vovó’s brothers. It’s a big family”

“I see…”

“They’re good people. Honestly, no wonder vovó left there when Grandpa died. I’ll do the same when you do.”

“Hey!”

* * *

_Day 75 – Taubaté-São Paulo – 72 miles_

Weather: way too hot

Big day, but we absolutely wanted to reach Sao Paulo today to have an off day there tomorrow. The road was easy for a long while (paved) but still with so many trees. We also met some friends on our way : two sloths crossing the road, and a few miles further a whole-ass goddamn fucking jaguar laying in the middle of the way. He was ferocious and could definitely have killed us, but we bravely fought him off. Don’t worry, we weren’t injured from this encounter.

- _Connor_

[Pictures: some of the forest they crossed, a few of the sloths – Whiskey took pictures of Dex carrying them to the other side of the road and petting their small sloths heads, and, of course, some of the ferocious jaguar in the way. It’s actually an ocelot. The three pictures from different angles show clearly that the guys biked into the forest to avoid it. Also, a few shots of the sunset in São Paulo when they arrived there.]

[Instagram picture: Selfie of Dex and Whiskey on a beach.]

**@will-travel** with @connor.whisksksks – day off near São Paulo! A big part of the trip was on the coast, so we got to visit a lot of beaches. This one is a solid 7/10

@nursheeeey dex your sunburn is back

@will-travel nursey I am a sunburn

@foxier-trotter Enjoy!!! If that’s only a 7 I want to hear more about your 10s!!!!

[Instagram pictures: sunrise from the beach, which is empty, and surrounded by rocks. The water is crystal clear. The second is probably a few hours later, it’s well into the morning – the water is now turquoise blue.]

**@will-travel** Soon the end of our trip…

@larduan Wow beautiful

@jlz01 Beautiful pictures. Do you already know where you want to go next ? -Jack

* * *

Where they wanted to go next, uh?

They had quickly said some “Here would be great” or “Why not there next time, haha” but at the end of the day, it was just ideas thrown like that.

Dex thought a lot on the road the following days.

He was so used to his new routine that he didn’t know how he’d manage to even go back to Samwell now.

Wake up before the sun, grab a solid breakfast, bike as much as possible before the temperature rose too much, improvise lunch, nap on the side of the road, bike some more after the hottest hours of the day, find a place to sleep in the cheapest hostel or at someone’s generous enough to host them.

Meet strangers, chat, discover, learn.

He liked life this way.

They were staying in Cajati for the night, before a _long_ leg tomorrow, with more than 120 km without any town before reaching Curitiba. A family had been more than happy to host them for the night, and they had spent an hour helping the wife cooking dinner. It was now late enough that everyone had retreated to their rooms, while they were laying on the couch in the living-room.

“Shit, I won’t be able to eat one more grain of rice,” Whiskey sighed. “And you know how much I love rice. But I think I ate rice every day for the last month.”

“Aw, shit, here goes my plan for an East Asia trip…”

“You go without me.”

“Whis, you signed for ‘til death do us part’ and all that.”

“If I eat any more rice, I die, so I’m fulfilling my part of the contract really.”

Dex laughed at that. Yeah, sure, no more rice. How could he even believe that.

He settled down more comfortably on the couch, and he looked at his husband, pensive.

“Where do you want to go next?”

Whiskey turned, an eyebrow raised.

“What’s with the serious tone? You don’t expect just ‘Curitiba’, right?”

“No. Next summer. I wanna go again. But…”

“But you’ll have just graduated, and you’ll need to find a job, and then I’ll maybe have interesting prospect camps to go to.”

“Yes.”

Dex took a deep breath.

“I’m scared we’ll never get to do something like this again. I’ll have a job, you’ll maybe sign with the NHL… If you do, then of course we’ll have the money, but will we have the time? The courage? God- I so wanted to make this trip and we almost didn’t. We talked and talked and talked about it, theoretically, but if Nursey and Chowder hadn’t pushed me into actually going for it we would be currently miserable in our respective hometowns.”

“They did?”

“Yeah. I thought it was a well-established fact that all the acts of courage from my part, like asking you out or asking you to actually doing this trip, were done because I had my ass kicked into actually doing it.”

“Ah, don’t say that. You just need a push sometimes.”

“What if the push doesn’t come?”

“Then you make the push. Or you ask me, and I’ll make the push.”

“I want to make the push now then. Whiskey, I want to travel again and again with you.”

Whiskey carded his fingers through Dex’s hair, pensive.

“Maybe we can… Try something? If we work this year to save money – you postpone your job search for a while, and – we could bike all the way to my prospect camp city. And then take the plane to wherever in the world.”

“We had talked -about Mexico, and then biking all the way down to Chile, to see where your mama came from,” Dex said, softly. “We could fly to Mexico. And then bike as far South as we can until we need to go back home for your classes.”

“We could go to Europe. Tour France, Germany – what about Scandinavia.”

“Or Ireland. So you can show off your Irish skills.”

“What about New Zealand? To see all the Lord of the Rings sets!”

“But, Whis, it’ll be winter there…”

“We’ll go one day during one of our winters then…”

“What winter? You’ll be working then! That will be the middle of the season!”

“Ah, when I’ll be retired at the ripe age of thirty then. It will be a great first trip for our kids…”

“What kids now, Whiskey.”

“We’re catholics and just married. We all know that in a few months the first baby will appear and then they won’t stop…”

“Graduate and sign a million dollar contract first and then we’ll see.”

Dex didn’t have to worry much about what life would turn into, once they went back home.

* * *

* * *

_“So… When are you leaving?” Nursey had asked._

_“What are you talking about?”_

_“You know. With Whiskey. Your bike trip to Brazil, you know.”_

Of course Nursey had known about the trip.

Whiskey and Dex hadn’t been discreet when joking about it around the team.

Still, it was weird. Back then – in February, they were still new together, and still new being out. Ford and Tango had known almost as soon as they got together of course (how could that pass under their noses, really? Both Tango and Ford knew everything there is to know about everyone, and Dex and Whiskey were always hanging out with them).

Nursey and Chowder had really only been told a few hours ago about Whiskey and Dex being together, and had been flabbergasted about it. Dex didn’t really plan to tell them, but Chowder had organised a sleepover for the three of them because he felt like he hadn’t seen Dex lately (not that he was wrong, really), and it came naturally into the conversation.

It was the best way to come out, probably, but still, he was scared and apprehensive. Tango was trans, Ford a lesbian, so it had been easy – now it was something else.

The guys had been more than supportive, regardless. A bit too much, in Nursey’s case.

“We’re not going,” Dex just told Nursey.

“Oh, why not?”

“Because? It’s really expensive, way more than a plane ticket. Even if we joke that it’s to save money.”

“It can’t be that expensive, can it?” Chowder asked.

“It can be. I looked into it, just to see. We can’t.”

“But that’s a really cool project…” Nursey interjected. “Maybe if-”

“It doesn’t matter! We _can’t_ do this, okay? It doesn’t matter how much we want to, how much we dream of it, we _can’t_ , okay?” Dex snapped. “We’re going to have to work this summer! Dreams are good for people who can afford them! I can barely afford rent; no, I’m not gonna spend the summer biking with my boyfriend all the way to Brazil!”

He seemed to realise that he was almost shouting, so he took a few breaths to calm down and continued, with a quieter tone:

“I’m going to be on a fucking boat and fish fucking lobsters with my fucking uncles and my fucking family and just wish for the summer to be over to be able to go back to school for one last year before I have to accept that I’m a average man who will have an average life. My dreams don’t matter; I can’t be anything, nor anyone. Ambitions are useless if you don’t have the opportunities. No, I’ll end up a dime-a dozen programmer or IT guy, working for some start-up with a boss who doesn’t care about anything that’s not profit, trying to save what’s left of my money after rent and grocery shopping to pay for vacations in Hawaii every ten years to have an illusion of exoticism. Because I’m like everyone else. I’m not a genius, and I’m not born surrounded by enough wealth to make up for this. I don’t travel to Europe every other summer, I had to save four years of work money to spend one week there, at my pen pal’s, where I didn’t even have to pay for a bed and food. So no. I looked, I calculated, I took more hours at my online job. I can’t go to Brazil with a fucking bike.”

That was it, for Dex. Saying all of that sealed the conversation, the project, the dream.

“But you really want to go,” Chowder countered.

“I can’t, Chowder. Did you hear a word I just said?”

“I’m sure you can go,” he insisted. “You’re resourceful. People always ask for your help, and you’re always happy to do so. I’m sure you can find the funds – ask for a bit more money when you help other people in the frat row to fix their stuff, bake sales, people always love to buy overpriced slices of cake for projects like this. I did some in high school, you can make a few hundred dollars with those – and with recipes that Bitty taught you, you’ll definitely make as much. Bitty will probably help you bake all this. I know I will. You can make a GoFundMe-”

“Chowder, all of this is really nice, but I can’t ask for people to pay for my trip-”

“You can. Listen, it’s a beautiful idea – not just a week in Cancun. I’m sure there’s some people who would be happy to help you. God, I _know_ the whole team would be happy to help you, Dex. Just let us do it. We know you’d do the same for us, if anyone on the team had such a goal – even if it’s only a few bucks, you’d do it, and you’d help them find good bikes and the best gear. You’re always helping everyone. Let us help you.”

“Listen to the guy, Dex. At worst, the GoFundMe fails, but the other money you and Whiskey would raise -it’s not lost. You can keep it and try it again next year, or the year after, when you’d have been working for a year and Whiskey would have just graduated. At least, try. A great man once said; you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.”

“Maybe.”

Maybe had been enough for the moment.

* * *

* * *

_Day 84 – Barra Velha-Tijuquinhas_

Weather: a bit cloudy and hot

Well. That’s the end of the trip. We’re reaching Florianopolis tomorrow. Neither of us knows what to say, so we’re just gonna post pictures we haven’t shared yet. We’re going to write a longer post tomorrow to sum up the whole thing. Thank you all.

4314 miles by bike, 6719 in all, without counting 2200 miles by plane. Maybe less by bike, because of all the people who let us hop in their cars when it was raining or already night, or even hold on their trucks to pull us up a slope. That’s only numbers. Every single one of those miles was unforgettable.

- _Connor_

[Pictures:

  * 1st of the departure in Samwell, one that Jack sent them – it’s them, leaving on their bikes, around their friends.
  * 2nd at Jack’s and Bitty’s after their 1st Whiskey is helping Bitty bake a pie.
  * 3rd in New York by night at the top of the Rockefeller Center. Dex is next to Nursey, pointing a building and probably asking him about it.
  * 4th in the streets of Bogotá. Whiskey posing in front of the colourful houses. He’s beaming.
  * 5th on the tiny roads of Colombia. It’s mountains, the roads are dirt, and there’s no one around, just them and the landscape.
  * 6th on the Cuyuni River, when they crossed it on a boat. The water is brown, but the view of the forest is stunning.
  * 7th of Dex losing at arm wrestling against the truck drivers on the ferry to São Luis.
  * 8th, selfie of Dex and Whiskey on the bus. They seem like they’re about to die.
  * 9th, the two of them holding hands on the cliff in Rio after their wedding. They’re grinning. 10th is them at the same place, plus their friends – a passer-by had been nice enough to take the picture.
  * 10th, a road sign in Tijuquinhas pointing to Florianopolis.]



[Instagram picture: comparison of their bikes, before they left and now. The bikes definitely had an eventful life.]

**@will-travel** The real MVPs of the trip. They carried us ‘till the end. Last night on the road 💔

@birk.holster An emoji r you sick

@tangotangredi Great!!! When are you back in Samwell??

@connor.whisksksks We’re staying almost a week in Florianopolis and then flying to Arizona, getting my car and driving back home. So around the 13th I guess, just in time for the preseason

* * *

Tijuqinhas.

That was their last day.

The last time they woke up in a strange inn, the last time they ate a huge breakfast while mapping their intended route before going, the last 19 miles to bike.

It was… Weird. They left on the 13th of May, it was now the 4th of August, and the whole trip had passed in both a blink and a lifetime.

“We should arrive between ten and eleven if we bike without stopping,” Dex said to Whiskey, checking the map as he was gulping down manioc.

“Okay. I’m telling my aunt, but she told me yesterday that vovó should be home all day. She’ll be there to make sure of it.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell your grandma. If we had made _all the way here_ to arrive in front of an empty house because she was on vacation…”

Whiskey laughed. Forcefully.

“Haha… She wouldn’t.”

“Whis.”

“Yeah, so, this manioc. It’s good, right?”

“Whiskey, your aunt had to talk her out of going on vacations, didn’t she?”

“Very very good manioc. As say my Irish ancestors; _blasta._ ”

Dex just sighed, because what can you say, really?

“Just. Let’s go.”

* * *

**SMH Fairies**

_Ransom_  
> 🎆🎇🎉🧨🚲🚲✨🎊🎇🎆

_Bitty_  
> Last day! You go guys! Congrats on doing this!

_Nursey_  
> <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9jK-NcRmVcw>

_Shitty_  
> SHOW THEM GUYS

_Holster_  
> I honestly thought you were nuts before, and knowing you are going to actually finish this makes me say; I am now certain you are nuts

_Hop_  
>   
> GAMBATTE SENPAIS

_Bully_  
> you go

_Louis_  
> !!!!!!!!!!!!

_Jack_  
> Good luck guys.

_Ford_  
> Can’t wait to see you again!

_Tango_  
> ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

_Chowder_  
> I’m crying for you guys


	9. STOPOVER 3: Florianópolis

They stopped the bikes in front of a small house, far from downtown. That was it.

Whiskey had texted his aunt when they entered the city, almost getting hit by a car while doing so; but they reached their destination, in one piece, and vovó was just here, in her living-room, watching telenovelas.

Dex asked him if all was good before he knocked on the door.

Whiskey grabbed his hand.

Vovó was quick to open the door. She was all small and angry at being interrupted in the middle of her episode, but the second she recognised her grandson on the doorstep, she gasped and took him in his arms and began to cry.

“Oi vovó…”

“Rafinha!”

“Surprise…?”

She pulled away from the hug, to wipe her tears away and look at him. Whiskey’s aunt was in the hallway, filming the whole thing.

“What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you,” Whiskey just said. “It’s been a while.”

“Well that’s a beautiful surprise. You took the time to come all the way down here to see your grandma?”

“Ah, don’t worry, it was no big deal – I wasn’t alone. Vovó, (he turned towards Dex) meet my husband, William. Dex, my grandma, Amália.”

“A husband?” vovó asked. “Oh my, that’s a lot of freckles on one boy.”

Dex let her pat his cheek without saying anything, just smiling.

“Oh, how are my manners? Come in, come in… How was your flight?”

“Our flight?” Whiskey laughed, following her in. “Vovó, let me tell you, we have a loooot of stories about our trip…”

All’s good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you liked it. More one-shots of this universe may be to come ! It was a delight to work on it !
> 
> [Here is a link to the full map](https://www.google.com/maps/d/viewer?hl=en&mid=1McUarEDH83t9ivk2YftEG62y-2zq1QIw&ll=8.920014849470276%2C-63.74680139999998&z=3)


End file.
